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ii 


THE 


History  of  Rasselas, 

Prince  of  Abyssinia. 

A TALE. 

BY 

SAMUEL  JOHNSON,  LL  D. 


NEW  YORK : 

ilURST  AND  COMPANY, 
PUBJ.1SHERS. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  RASSELAS 


PBINCE  OP  ABYSSINIA. 


CHAPTER  I, 

Description  of  a palace  in  a valley. 

Te  who  listen  with  credulity  to  the  whis- 
pers of  fancy,  and  pursue  with  eagerness 
the  phantoms  of  hope  ; who  expect  that  age 
will  perform  the  promises  of  youth,  and 
that  the  deficiencies  of  the  present  day  will 
be  supplied  by  the  morrow;  attend  to  the 
history  of  Rasselas,  prince  of  Abyssinia. 

Rasselas  was  the  fourth  son  of  the  mighty 
emperor,  in  whose  dominions  the  Father  of 
Waters  begins  his  course;  whose  bounty 
pours  down  the  streams  of  plenty,  and  sc  t- 
ters  over  half  the  world  the  harvests  of 
Egypt, 


/ 

51850 


6 


RASSELAS. 


According  to  the  custom  which  has  de- 
scended from  age  to  age  among  the  monarchs 
of  the  torrid  zone,  Rasselas  was  confined  in 
a private  palace,  with  the  other  sons  and 
daughters  of  Abyssinian  royalty,  till  the 
order  of  succession  should  call  him  to  the 
throne. 

The  place,  which  the  wisdom  or  policy  of 
antiquity  had  destined  for  the  residence  of 
the  Abyssinian  princes,  was  a spacious  val- 
ley in  the  kingdom  of  Amhara,  surrounded 
on  every  side  by  mountains,  of  which  the 
summits  overhang  the  middle  part.  The 
only  passage  by  which  it  could  be  entered 
was  a cavern  that  passed  under  a rock,  of 
which  it  has  long  been  disputed  whether  ifc 
was  the  work  of  nature  or  of  human  indus- 
try. The  outlet  of  the  cavern  was  concealed 
by  a thick  wood,  and  the  mouth  which 
opened  into  the  valley  was  closed  with  gates 
of  iron  forged  by  the  artificers  of  ancient 
days,  so  massy  that  no  man  could  without 
the  help  of  engines  open  or  shut  them. 

From  the  mountains  on  every  side,  rivu- 
lets descended  that  filled  all  the  valley  with 
veMure  and  fertility,  and  formed  a lake 
in  the  middle,  inhabited  by  fish  of  every 


EASSSLAS. 


1 


species,  and  frequented  by  every  fowl  whom 
nature  has  taught  to  dip  the  ^ying  in  water. 
This  lake  discharged  its  superfluities  by  a 
stream  which  entered  a dark  cleft  of  the 
mountain  on  the  northern  side,  and  fell  w ith 
dreadful  noise  from  precipice  to  precipice 
till  it  was  heard  no  more. 

The  sides  of  the  mountains  were  covered 
with  trees,  the  banks  of  the  brooks  were 
diversified  with  flowers ; every  blast  shook 
spices  from  the  rocks,  and  every  month 
dropped  fruits  upon  the  ground.  All  ani- 
mals that  bite  the  grass  or  browse  the  shrub, 
whether  wild  or  tame,  wandered  in  this  ex- 
tensive circuit,  secured  from  beasts  of  prey 
by  the  mountains  which  confined  them.  On 
one  part  were  flocks  and  herds  feeding  in 
the  pastures,  on  another  all  the  beasts  of 
chase  frisking  in  the  lawns ; the  sprightly 
kid  was  bounding  on  rocks,  the  subtle  mon- 
key frolicking  in  the  trees,  and  the  solemn 
elephant  reposing  in  the  shade.  All  the 
diversitie*^  of  the  world  were  brought  to- 
gether, the  blessings  of  nature  were  col- 
lected, and  its  evils  extracted  and  excluded. 

The  valley,  wide  and  fruitful,  supplied  its 
inhabitants  with  the  necessaries  of  life,  and 


8 


BASSELAS. 


all  delights  and  superfluities  were  added  at 
the  annual  visit  which  the  emperor  paid  his 
children,  when  the  iron  gate  was  opened  to 
the  sound  of  music ; and  during  eight  days 
every  one  that  resided  in  the  valley  was  re- 
quired to  propose  whatever  might  contribute 
to  make  seclusion  pleasant,  to  fill  up  the 
vacancies  of  attention,  and  lessen  the 
tediousness  of  time.  Every  desire  was 
immediately  granted.  All  the  artificers  of 
pleasure  were  called  to  gladden  the  festi- 
vity ; the  musicians  exerted  the  power  of 
harmony,  and  the  dancers  showed  their  ac- 
tivity before  the  princes,  in  hope  that  they 
pass  their  lives  in  this  blissful  cap- 
to  which  thosejQixly  we^  admitted 
^10^  performance  was  thought  able  to  add 
y to  luxury.  Such  was  the  appear- 
Ellice  or  security  and  delight,  which  this  re- 
tirement afforded,  that  they,  to  whom  it 
was  new,  always  desired  that  it  might  be 
perpetual ; and  as  those,  on  whom  the  iron 
gate  had  once  closed,  were  never  suffered  to 
return,  the  effect  of  longer  experience  could 
not  be  known.  Thus  every  year  produced 
new  schemes  of  delight,  and  new  competi- 
tors for  imprisonment. 


BASSELAS. 


The  palace  stood  on  an  eminence  raised 
about  thirty  paces  above  the  surface  of  the 
lake.  It  was  divided  into  many  squares  or 
courts,  built  with  greater  or  less  magnifi- 
cence, according  to  the  rank  of  those  for 
whom  they  were  designed.  The  roofs  were 
turned  into  arches  of  massy  stone,  joined 
by  a cement  that  grew  harder  by  time,  and 
the  building  stood  from  century  to  century 
deriding  the  solstitial  rains  and  equinoc- 
tial hurricanes,  without  need  of  repara- 
tion. 

This  house,  which  was  so  large  as  to  be 
fully  known  to  none  but  some  ancient  officers 
who  successively  inherited  the  secrets  of 
the  place,  was  built  as  if  suspicion  herself 
had  dictated  the  plan.  To  every  room  there 
was  an  open  and  secret  passage,  every  square 
had  a communication  with  the  rest,  either 
from  the  upper  storeys  by  private  galleries, 
or  by  subterranean  passages  from  the  lower 
apartments.  Many  of  the  columns  had 
unsuspected  cavities,  in  which  a long  race 
of  monarchs  had  deposited  their  treasures. 
They  then  closed  up  the  opening  with 
marble,  which  was  never  to  be  removed  but 
in  the  utmost  exigences  of  the  kingdom : 


y1 


10 


nASSELAR. 


and  recorded  their  accumulations  in  a book, 
■which  was  itself  concealed  in  b tower  not 
entered  but  by  the  emperor  attended  by  the 
prince  who  stoou  next  in  succession. 


MASSELAS. 


11 


CHAPTER  11. 

The  discontent  of  Kasselas  in  the  happy  valley. 

Here  the  sons  and  daughters  of  Abyssinia 
lived  only  to  know  the  soft  vicissitudes  of 
pleasure  and  repose,  attended  by  all  that 
were  skillful  to  delight,  and  gratified  with 
whatever  the  senses  can  enjoy.  They  wan- 
dered in  gardens  of  fragrance,  and  slept  in 
the  fortresses  of  security.  Every  art  was 
practiced  to  make  them  pleased  with  their 
own  condition.  The  sages  who  instructed 
thein  told  them  of  mitlfiaig-.biitJhe..  m 
of^blic_life,- and  described-..Qj]Jb^  the 
mountains  as  regions  of  calunfity,  where 
discord  was  always  ^ and  where  man 
preyed  upon  .man. 

To  heighten  their  opinion  of  their  own 
felicity,  they  were  daily  entertained  with 
Eongs,  the  subject  of  which  was  the  happy 
valley.  Their  appetites  were  excited  by 
frequent  enumerations  of  different  enjoy* 


12 


HASSELAS. 


ments ; and  revelry  and  merriment  was  the 
business  of  every  hour  from  the  dawn  of 
morning  to  the  close  of  even. 

These  methods  were  generally  successful : 
few  of  the  princes  had  ever  wished  to  en- 
large their  bounds,  but  passed  their  lives 
in  full  conviction  that  they  had  all  within 
their  reach  that  art  or  nature  could  bestow, 
and  pitied  those  whom  fate  had  excluded 
from  this  seat  of  tranquillity,  as  the  sport 
of  chance  and  the  slaves  of  misery. 

Thus  they  rose  in  the  morning  and  lay 
down  at  night,  pleased  with  each  other  and 
with  themselves ; all  but  Rasselas,  who  in 
the  twenty-sixth  year  of  his  age  began  to 
withdraw  himself  from  their  pastimes  and 
assemblies,  and  to  delight  in  solitary  walks 
and  silent  meditation.  He  often  sat  before 
tables  covered  with  luxury,  and  forgot  to 
taste  the  dainties  that  were  placed  before 
him ; he  rose  abruptly  in  the  midst  of  the 
song  and  hastily  retired  beyond  the  sound 
of  music.  His  attendants  observed  the 
change  and  endeavored  to  renew  his  love  of 
pleasure;  he  neglected  their  officiousness, 
and  repulsed  their  invitations,  and  spent 
day  after  day  on  the  banks  of  rivulets 


UASSELAS. 


13 


sheltered  with  trees,  where  he  sometimes 
listened  to  the  birds  in  the  branches,  some- 
times observed  the  fish  playing  in  the  stream, 
and  anon  cast  his  eyes  upon  the  pastures 
and  mountains  filled  with  animals,  of  which 
some  were  biting  the  herbage,  and  some 
sleeping  among  the  bushes. 

This  singularity  of  his  humor  made  him 
much  observed.  One  of  the  sages,  in  whose 
conversation  he  had  formerly  delighted, 
followed  him  secretly,  in  hope  of  discovering 
the  cause  of  his  disquiet.  Rasselas,  who 
knew  not  that  any  one  was  near  him,  hav- 
ing for  some  time  fixed  his  eyes  upon  the 
goats,  that  were  browsing  among  the  rocks, 
began  to  compare  their  condition  with  his 
own. 

‘‘  What,”  said  he,  “ makes  the  difference 
between  man  and  all  the  rest  of  the  animal 
creation?  Every  beast  that  strays  beside 
me  has  the  same  corporal  necessities  with 
myself ; he  is  hungry  and  crops  the  grass,  he 
is  thirsty  and  drinks  the  stream,  his  thirst 
and  liunger  are  appeased,  he  is  satisfied, 
and  sleeps ; he  rises  again  and  is  himgry,  h^_ 
is  again  fed  and  is  at  rest.  I am  hungry 
and  thirsty  like  him,  but  when  thirst  and 


BASSELAS. 


M 

hunger  cease  I am  not  at  rest ; I am,  like 
him,  pained  with  want,  but  am  not,  like  him, 
satisfied  with  fullness.  The  intermediate 
hours  are  tedious  and  gloomy ; I long  again 
to  be  hungry,  that  I may  again  quicken  my 
attention.  The  birds  i)ick  the  berries  or  the 
corn,  and  fly  away  to  the  groves,  where  they 
sit  in  seeming  hapi)iness  on  the  bran^es, 
and  waste  their  lives  in  tuning  one  unvaried 
series  of  sounds.  I likewise  can  call  the 
lutanist  and  the  singer,  but  the  sounds  that 
pleased  me  yesterday  weary  mo  to-day,  and 
will  grow  yet  more  wearisome  to-morrow:.. 
I can  discover  within  me  no  power  of  per- 
ception wdiich  is  not  glutted  wuth  its  proper 
pleasure,  yet  I do  not  feel  myself  delighted* 
Man  surely  has  some  latent  sense  for  which 
this  place  affords  no  gratification  ; or  ho  has 
some  desires,  dis^icj:  „j£rom  sense,  which 
musFT5e*satisfied""b^^  he  can  beTiappy.” 

After  this  he  lifted  up  his  head,  and,  see- 
ing the  moon  rising,  ^valked  towards  the 
palacg.  As  he  jDassed  through  the  fields 
and  iaw  the  animals  around  him,  “ Ye,’^ 
said  he,  are  happy,  and  need  not  envy  me 
that  walk  thus  among  you,  i:)urdened  with 
myself*,  nor  do  I,  ye  gentle  beings,  envy 


BASSELAS. 


15 


your  felicity;  for  it  is  not  the  felicity  of 
man.  I have  many  distresses  from  which 
ye  are  free : I fear  pain  when  I do  not  feel 
it;  I sometimes  shrink  at  evils  recollected, 
and  sometimes  start  at  evils  anticipated. 
Surely  the  equity  cf  Providence  has  bal- 
anced peculiar  sufferings  with  peculiar 
enji^ments.’^ 

Vfith  observations  like  these  the  prince 
amused  himself  as  he  returned;  uttering 
them  with  a i)laintive  voice,  yet  with  a look 
that  discovered  him  to  feel  some  compla- 
Ipence  in  his  own  perspicacity,  and  to  receive 
some  solace  of  the  miseries  of  life  from  con- 
sciousness of  the  delicacy  with  which  he 
felt,  and  the  eloquence  with  which  he  be- 
wailed them.  He  mingled  cheerfully  in  the 
diversions  of  the  evening,  and  all  rejoiced 
to  find  that  his  heart  was  lightened. 


16 


^ASSELAS. 


CHAPTER  III. 

The  wants  of  him  that  wants  nothing. 

On  the  next  day  his  old  instructor,  im- 
agining that  he  had  now  made  himself  ac- 
quainted with  his  disease  of  mind,  was  in 
hope  of  curing  it  by  counsel,  and  officiously 
sought  an  opportunity  of  conference  ; whiqji 
the  prince  having  long  considered  him  as 
one  whose  intellects  were  exhausted,  was 
not  very  willing  to  afford:  ‘‘  Why,”  said  he, 
does  this  man  thus  intrude  upon  me ; 
shall  I be  never  suffered  to  forget  those  lec- 
tures which  pleased  only  while  they  were 
new,  and  to  become  new  again  must  be  for- 
gotten ? ” He  then  walked  into  the  wood, 
and  composed  himself  to  his  usual  medita- 
tions ; when,  before  his  thoughts  had  taken 
any  settled  form,  he  perceived  his  pursuer 
at  his  side,  and  was  at  first  prompted  by  his 
impatience  to  go  hastily  away;  but  being 
unwilling  to  offend  a man  whom  he  had 


^.ASSELAS,  17 

once  reverenced  and  still  loved,  he  invited 
him  to  sit  down  with  him  on  the  bank. 

The  old  man,  thus  encouraged,  began  to 
lament  the  change  which  had  been  lately 
observed  in  the  prince,  and  to  inquire  why 
he  so  often  retired  from  the  pleasures  of  the 
palace,  to  loneliness  and  silence?  “I  fly 
from  pleasures,”  said  the  prince,  ‘‘  because 
pleasure  has  ceased  to  please ; I am  lonely 
because  I am  miserable,  and  am  unwilling 
to  cloud  with  my  presence  the  happiness  of 
others.”  “ You,  sir,”  said  the  sage,  “ are 
the  first  who  has  complained  of  misery  in  the 
happy  valley.  I hope  to  convince  you  that 
your  complaints  have  no  real  cause.  T ou  are 
here  in  full  possession  of  all  that  the  em- 
peror of  Abyssinia  can  bestow;  here  is 
neither  labor  to  be  endured  nor  danger  to  be 
dreaded,  yet  here  is  all  that  labor  or  danger 
can  procure  or  purchase.  Look  round  and 
tell  me  which  of  your  wants  is  without 
supply;  if  you  want  nothing  how  are  you 
unhappy  ?” 

“ That  I want  nothing,”  said  the  prince, 
“ nor  that  I know  not  what  I want,  is  the 
cause  of  my  complaint.  If  I had  any  known 
want,  I should  have  a certain  wishj  that 


18 


BASSELAS. 


wish  would  excite  endeavor,  and  I should 
not  then  repine  to  see  the  sun  move  so 
slowly  towards  the  western  mountam,  or 
lament  when  the  day  breaks,  and  sleep  will 
no  longer  hide  me  from  myself.  When  I 
see  the  kids  and  the  lambs  chasing  one 
another,  -I  fancy  that  I should  be  happy 
if  I had  something  to  pursue.  But,  pos- 
essing  all  that  I can  want  I find  one  day  and 
one  hour  exactly  like  another,  except  that 
the  latter  is  still  more  tedious  than  the 
former.  Let  your  experience  inform  me 
how  the  day  may  nov/  seem  as  short  as  in 
my  childhood,  while  nature  was  yet  fresh, 
and  every  moment  showed  me  what  I never 
had  observed  before.  I have  already  enjoyed 
too  much ; give  me  something  to  desire.” 

The  old  man  was  surprised  at  this  new' 
species  of  affliction,  and  knew  not  what  to 
reply,  yet  was  unwilling  to  be  silent.  Sir,” 
said  he,  if  you  had  seen  the  miseries  of  the 
world,  you  would  know  how  to  value  your 
present  state.”  “ Now,”  said  the  prince, 
‘‘  you  have  given  me  something  to  desire  j 
I shall  long  to  see  the  miseries  of  the  world, 
since  the  sight  of  tneia  is  nocesaaiy  to 
happiness.” 


BASSELAJS. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

The  Prince  continues  to  grieve  and  muse. 

At  this  time  the  sound  of  music  pro- 
claimed the  hour  of  repast,  and  the  conver-  • 
sation  was  concluded.  The  old  man  went 
away  sufficiently  discontented,  to  find  that  his 
reasonmgs  had  produced  the  only  conclusion 
which  they  v/ere  intended  to  prevent.  But 
in  the  decline  of  life  shame  anid  grief  are  of 
short  duration ; whether  it  be  that  we  bear 
easily  what  we  have  borne  long;  or  that> 
finding  ourselves  in  age  less  regarded^,  w# 
less  regard  others;  or,  that  we  If b 
slight  regard  upon  affiictions  to  which  we 
knew  that  the  hand  of  death  is  about  to  put 
an  end. 

The  prince,  whose  views  were  extended 
to  a wider  space,  could  not  speedily  quiet 
his  emotions.  Ileffiad  been  before  terrified 
at  the  length  of  life  which  nature  promised 
him,  because  he  considered  that  in  a long 


20 


hasselas. 


time  much  must  be  endured:  he  now  re- 
joiced in  his  youth,  because  in  many  years 
much  might  be  done. 

This  first  beam  of  hope,  that  had  been  ever 
darted  into  his  mind,  rekindled  youth  in  his 
cheeks,  and  doubled  the  luster  of  his  eyes. 
He  was  fired  with  the  desire  of  doing  some- 
thing, though  he  knew  not  yet  with  dis- 
tinctness either  end  or  means. 

He  was  now  no  longer  gloomy  and  un- 
social ; but,  considering  himself  as  master 
of  a secret  stock  of  happiness,  which  he 
could  enjoy  only  by  concealing  it,  he  affected 
to  be  busy  in  all  schemes  of  diversion,  and 
endeavored  to  make  others  pleased  with  the 
state  of  which  he  himself  v/as  weary.  But 
pleasures  never  can  be  so  multiplied  or  con- 
tinued as  not  to  leave  much  of  life  unem- 
ployed ; there  were  many  hours,  both  of  the 
night  and  day,  which  he  could  spend  with- 
out suspicion  in  solitary  thought.  The  load 
of  life  was  much  lightened ; he  went  eagerly 
into  the  assemblies,  because  he  supposed  the 
frequency  of  his  presence  necessary  to  the 
success  of  his  purposes ; he  retired  gladly  to 
privacy,  because  he  had  now  a subject  of 
thought. 


bass:elas. 


His  chief  amusement  was  to  picture  to 
himself  that  world  which  he  had  never  seen ; 
to  place  himself  in  various  conditions ; to  be 
entangled  in  imaginary  difficulties,  and  to 
be  engaged  in  wild  adventures;  but  his 
benevolence  always  terminated  his  projects 
in  the  relief  of  distress,  the  detection  of  fraud, 
the  defeat  of  oppression,  and  the  diffusion 
« of  happiness. 

Thus  passed  twenty  months  of  the  life  of 
Rasselas.  He  busied  himself  so  intensely 
in  visionary  bustle  that  he  forgot  his  real 
solitude;  and,  amidst  hourly  preparations 
for  the  various  incidents  of  human  affairs, 
neglected  to  consider  by  what  means  he 
should  mingle  with  mankind. 

One  day,  as  he  was  sitting  on  a bank,  he 
feigned  to  himself  an  orphan  virgin  robbed 
of  her  little  portion  by  a treacherous  lover, 
and  crying  after  him  for  restitution  and 
redress.  So  strongly  was  the  image  im- 
pressed upon  his  mind  that  he  started  up  in 
the  maid’s  defense,  and  ran  forward  to  seize 
the  plunderer,  with  all  the  eagerness  of  real 
pursuit.  Fear  naturally  quickens  the  flight 
of  guilt.  Rasselas  could  not  catch  the  fugi- 
tive with  his  utmost  efforts ; but,  resolving 


22 


BASSELAS. 


to  weary,  by  perseverance,  him  whom  he 
could  not  surpass  in  speed,  he  pressed  on  till 
the  foot  of  the  mountain  stopped  his  course. 

Here  he  recollected  himself,  and  smiled 
at  his  own  useless  impetuosity.  Then,  rais- 
ing his  eyes  to  the  mountain,  « This,”  said 
he,  ‘‘is  the  fatal  obstacle  that  hinders  at 
once  the  enjoyment  of  pleasure,  and  the 
exercise  of  virtue.  How  long  is  it  that  my 
hopes  and  wishes  have  flown  beyond  this  * 
boundary  of  my  life,  which  yet  I never  have 
attempted  to  surmount ! ” 

Struck  with  this  reflection,  he  sat  down 
to  muse;  and  remembered,  that  since  he 
first  resolved  to  escape  from  his  confinement, 
the  sun  had  passed  twice  over  him  in  his 
annual  course.  He  now  felt  a degree  of 
regret  with  which  he  had  never  been  before 
acquainted.  He  considered  how  much  might 
have  been  done  in  the  time  which  had  passed, 
and  left  nothing  real  behind  it.  He  com- 
pared twenty  months  with  the  life  of  man. 

“ In  life,”  said  he,  “ is  not  to  be  counted 
the  ignorance  of  infancy,  or  imbecility  of 
age.  We  are  long  before  we  are  able  to 
think,  and  we  soon  cease  from  the  power 
of  acting.  The  true  period  of  human  exist- 


23 


BJfSSELAS.  ^ 

cnce  may  be  reasonably  estimated  at  forty 
years,  of  which  I have  mused  away  the  four 
and  twentieth  part.  What  I have  lost  was 
certain,  for  I have  certainly  possessed  it; 
but  of  twenty  months  to  come  who  can 
assure  me  ? ” 

The  consciousness  of  his  own  folly  pierced 
him  deeply,  and  he  was  long  before  he  could 
be  reconciled  to  himself.  “ The  rest  of  my 
time,”  said  he,  “ has  been  lost  by  the  crime 
or  folly  of  my  ancestors  and  the  absurd 
institutions  of  my  country ; 1 remember  it 
with  disgust,  yet  without  remorse : but  the 
months  that  have  passed  since  new  light 
darted  into  my  soul,  since  I formed  a scheme 
of  reasonable  felicity,  have  been  squandered 
by  my  own  fault.  I have  lost  that  which 
can  never  be  restored ; I have  seen  the  sun 
rise  and  set  for  twenty  months,  an  idle 
gazer  on  the  light  of  heaven  : in  this  time 
the  birds  have  left  the  nest  of  their  mother, 
and  committed  themselves  to  the  woods  and 
to  the  skies : the  kid  has  forsaken  the  teat, 
and  learned  by  degrees  to  climb  the  rocks 
in  quest  of  independent  sustenance.  I only 
have  made  no  advances,  but  am  still  helpless 
and  ignorant.  The  moon,  by  more  than 


24 


BASSE  LAS, 


twenty  changes,  admonished  me  of  the  flux 
of  life;  the  stream  that  rolled  before  my 
feet  upbraided  my  inactivity.  I sat  feasting 
on  intellectual  luxury,  regardless  alike  of 
the  examples  of  the  earth,  and  of  the  in- 
structions of  the  planets.  Twenty  months 
are  passed,  who  shall  restore  them  ? ” 

These  sorrowful  meditations  fastened  upon 
his  mind ; he  passed  four  months  in  resolv- 
ing to  lose  no  more  time  in  idle  resolves ; 
and  was  awakened  to  more  vigorous  exer- 
tion by  hearing  a maid,  who  had  broken  a 
porcelain  cup,  remark,  that  what  cannot 
be  repaired  is  not  to  be  regretted. 

This  was  obvious ; and  Rasselas  reproached 
himself  that  he  had  not  discovered  it,  having 
not  known  or  not  considered  how  many  use- 
ful hints  are  obtained  by  chance,  and  how 
often  the  mind,  hurried  by  her  own  ardor  to 
distant  views,  neglects  the  truths  that  lie 
open  before  her.  He,  for  a few  hours,  re- 
gretted his  regret,  and  from  that  time  bent 
his  whole  mind  upon  the  means  of  escaping 
from  the  valley  of  happiness. 


25 


CHAPTER  V. 


The  Prince  Meditates  his  Escape, 

He  now  found  that  it  would  be  very  dif- 
ficult to  effect  that  which  it  was  very  easy 
to  suppose  effected.  When  he  looked  round 
about  him,  he  saw  himself  confined  by  the 
bars  of  nature,  which  had  never  yet  been 
broken,  and  by  the  gate,  through  which 
none  that  once  had  passed  it  were  ever  able 
to  return.  He  was  now  impatient  as  an 
eagle  in  the  grate.  He  passed  week  after 
week  in  clambering  the  mountains,  to  see 
if  there  was  any  aperture  which  the  bushes 
might  conceal,  but  found  all  the  summits 
inaccessible  by  their  prominence.  The  iron 
gate  he  despaired  to  open ; for  it  was  not  only 
secured  with  all  the  powers  of  art,  but  was 
always  watched  by  successive  sentinels,  and 
was  by  its  position  exposed  to  the  perpetual 
observation  of  all  the  inhabitants. 

He  then  examined  the  cavern  through 


2G 


BASSELAS. 


which  the  waters  of  the  lake  were  dis- 
charged ; and,  looking  down  at  a time  when 
the  sun  shone  strongly  upon  its  mouth, 
he  discovered  it  to  be  full  of  broken  rocks, 
which,  though  they  permitted  the  stream  to 
flow  through  many  narrow  passages,  would 
stop  anybody  of  solid  bulk.  lie  returned 
discouraged  and  dejected  ; but,  having  now 
known  the  blessing  of  hope,  resolved  never 
to  despair. 

In  these  fruitless  searches  he  spent  ten 
months.  The  time,  however,  passed  cheer- 
fully away:  in  the  morning  he  rose  with 
new  hope,  in  the  evening  applauded  his 
own  diligence,  and  in  the  night  slept  sound 
after  his  fatigue.  He  met  a thousand  amuse- 
ments which  beguiled  his  labor  and  diversi- 
fied his  thoughts.  He  discerned  the  various 
instincts  of  animals  and  properties  of  plants, 
and  found  the  place  replete  with  wonders, 
of  which  he  purposed  to  solace  himself  with 
the  contemplation,  if  he  should  never  be  able 
to  accomplish  his  flight ; rejoicing  that  his 
endeavors,  though  yet  unsuccessful,  had 
supplied  him  with  a source  of  inexhaust- 
ible inquiry. 

But  his  original  curiosity  was  not  yet 


EASSELAS. 


27 


abated ; he  resolved  to  obtain  some  knowl- 
edge of  the  ways  of  men.  His  wish  still 
continued,  but  his  hope  grew  less.  He  ceased 
to  survey  any  longer  the  walls  of  his  prison, 
and  spared  to  search  by  new  toils  for  inter- 
stices, which  he  knew  could  not  be  found  yet 
determined  to  keep  his  design  always  i» 
view,  and  lay  hold  on  any  expedient  that 
time  should  olf  er« 


BASSELAS. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


A Dissertation  on  the  Art  of  Flying. 

Among  the  artists  that  had  been  allured 
into  the  happy  valley,  to  labor  for  the  accom- 
modation and  pleasure  of  its  inhabitants, 
was  a man  eminent  for  his  knowledge  of  the 
mechanic  powers,  who  had  contrived  many 
engines  both  of  use  and  recreation.  By  a 
wheel  which  the  stream  "turned  he  forced 
the  water  into  a tower,  whence  it  was  dis- 
tributed to  all  the  apartments  of  the  palace. 
He  erected  a pavilion  in  the  garden,  around 
which  he  kept  the  air  always  cool  by  artifi- 
cial showers.  One  of  the  groves,  appropriated 
to  the  ladies,  was  ventilated  by  fans,  to  which 
the  rivulet  that  ran  through  it  gave  a con- 
stant motion ; the  instruments  of  soft  music 
were  placed  at  proper  distances,  of  which 
some  played  by  the  impulse  of  the  wind 
and  some  by  the  power  of  the  stream. 

This  artist  was  sometimes  visited  by 


KASSEL  AS. 


29 


Rasselas,  who  was  pleased  with  every  kuidof 
knowledge,  imagining  that  the  time  would 
come  when  all  his  acquisitions  should  be  of 
use  to  him  in  the  open  world.  He  came  one 
day  to  amuse  himself  in  his  usual  manner, 
and  found  the  master  busy  in  building  a 
sailing  chariot : he  saw  that  the  design  was 
practicable  upon  a level  surface,  and  with 
expressions  of  great  esteem  solicited  its  com- 
pletion. The  workman  was  pleased  to  find 
himself  so  much  regarded  by  the  prince,  and 
resolved  to  gain  yet  higher  honors.  “ Sir,” 
said  he,  “ you  have  seen  but  a small  part  of 
what  the  mechanic  sciences  can  perform.  I 
have  been  long  of  opinion,  that,  instead  of  the 
tardy  conveyance  of  ships  and  chariots,  man 
might  use  the  swifter  migration  of  wings ; 
that  the  fields  of  air  are  open  to  knowledge, 
and  that  only  ignorance  and  idleness  need 
crawl  upon  the  ground.” 

This  hint  rekindled  the  prince’s  desire  of 
passing  the  mountains : having  seen  what 
the  mechanist  had  already  performed,  he 
was  willing  to  fancy  that  he  could  do  more ; 
yet  resolved  to  inquire  further,  before  he 
suffered  hope  to  afflict  him  by  disappoint- 
ment. “ I am  afraid,”  said  he  to  the  artist, 


80 


BASSELAS. 


“ that  your  imagination  prevails  over  your 
skill,  and  that  you  now  tell  me  rather  whai 
you  wish  than  what  you  know.  Every  anU 
mal  has  his  element  assigned  him ; the  birds 
have  the  air,  and  man  and  beasts  the  earth.’* 

So,”  replied  the  mechanist,  ‘^fishes  have 
the  water,  in  which  yet  beasts  can  swim  by 
nature,  and  men  by  art.  He  that  can  swim 
needs  not  despair  to  fly ; to  swim  is  to  fly 
In  a grosser  fluid,  and  to  fly  is  to  swim  iix 
a subtler.  We  are  only  to  proportion  our 
power  of  resistance  to  the  different  density 
of  matter  through  which  we  are  to  pass* 
You  will  be  necessarily  upborne  by  the  air, 
if  you  can  renew  any  impulse  upon  it  faster 
than  the  air  can  recede  from  the  pressure.” 

But  the  exercise  of  swimming,”  said  the 
prince,  “is  very  laborious;  the  strongest 
limbs  are  soon  wearied ; I am  afraid  the  act 
of  flying  will  be  yet  more  violent ; and  wings 
will  be  of  no  great  use  unless  we  can  fly 
■*?urther  than  we  can  swim.” 

“ The  labor  of  rising  from  the  ground,” 
said  the  artist,  “will  be  great,  as  We  see 
it  in  the  heavier  domestic  fowls,  but  as  we 
mount  higher,  the  earth’s  attrav^tion  and  the 
body’s  gravity  v/ill  be  gradually  diminished, 


BASSELAS, 


31 


till  we  shall  arrive  at  a region  where  the 
man  will  float  in  the  air  without  any  tend- 
ency to  fall ; no  care  will  then  be  necessary 
but  to  move  forwards,  which  the  gentlest 
impulse  will  effect.  You,  sir,  whose  curi- 
osity is  so  extensive,  will  easily  conceive 
with  what  pleasure  a philosopher,  furnished 
with  wings,  and  hovering  in  the  sky,  would 
see  the  earth,  and  all  its  inhabitants,  rolling’ 
beneath  him,  and  presenting  to  him  succes- 
sively, by  its  diurnal  motion,  all  the  coun- 
tries within  the  same  parallel.  How  must 
it  amuse  the  pendent  spectator  to  see  the 
moving  scene  of  land  and  ocean,  cities  and 
deserts  ! To  survey  with  equal  serenity  the 
marts  of  trade  and  the  fields  of  battle ; moun- 
tains infested  by  barbarians,  and  fruitful 
regions  gladdened  by  plenty  and  lulled  by 
peace ! How  easily  shall  we  then  trace  the 
Nile  through  all  his  passage ; pass  over  to 
distant  regions,  and  examine  the  face  ot 
nature  from  one  extremity  to  the  other ! 

11  this,”  said  the  prince,  “is  much  to  be 
desh  yl;  but  I am  afraid  that  no  man  will 
be  able  to  breathe  in  these  regions  of  specu- 
lation and  tranquillity.  I have  been  told 
that  respiration  is  difficult  upon  lofty  moun* 


32 


BASSELAS. 


tains,  yet  from  these  precipices,  though  so 
high  as  to  produce  great  tenuity  of  air,  it  is 
very  easy  to  fall : therefore  I suspect,  that, 
from  any  height  where  life  can  be  supported, 
there  may  be  danger  of  too  quick  descent.” 

‘‘  Nothing,”  replied  the  artist,  “ will  ever 
be  attempted,  if  all  possible  objections  must 
be  first  overcome.  If  you  will  favor  my 
project,  I will  try  the  first  flight  at  my  own 
hazard.  I have  considered  the  structure 
of  all  volant  animals,  and  find  the  folding 
continuity  of  the  bat’swings  most  easily 
accommodated  to  the  human  form.  Upon 
this  model  I shall  begin  my  task  to-morrow, 
and  in  a year  expect  to  tower  in  the  air  be- 
yond the  malice  and  pursuit  of  man.  But  I 
will  work  only  on  this  condition,  that  the 
art  shall  not  be  divulged,  and  that  you  shall 
not  require  me  to  make  wings  for  any  but 
ourselves.” 

Why,”  said  Rasselas,  should  you  envy 
others  so  great  an  advantage?  AIJ^ skill 
ought  to  be  exerted  for  universal  good ; 
every  man  has  owed  much  to  others,  and 
ought  to  repay  the  kindness  that  he  has 
received.” 

If  men  were  all  virtuous,”  returned  tke 


RASSEIAS. 


33 


artist,  I should  with  great  alacrity  teach 
them  all  to  fly.  But  what  would  be  the 
security  of  the  good,  if  the  Jbad  could  at 
pleasur^invade  them  from  the  sky  ? Against 
an  army  sailing  through  the  clouds,  neither 
walls,  nor  mountains,  nor  seas  could  afford 
any  security.  A flight  of  northern  savages 
might  hover  in  the  wind,  and  light  at  once 
with  irresistible  violence  upon  the  capital 
of  a fruitful  region  that  was  rolling  under 
them.  Even  this  valley,  the  retreat  of 
princes,  the  abode  of  happiness,  might  be 
violated  by  the  sudden  descent  of  some  of 
the  naked  nations  that  swarm  on  the  coast 
of  the  southa^n  sea.” 

The  prince  promised  secrecy,  and  waited 
for  the  performance,  not  wholly  hopeless  of 
success.  He  visited  the  work  from  t^ 
time,  observed  its  progress,  and  ren  arked 
many  ingenious  contrivances  to  fa(  "litetO 
motion,  and  unite  levity  with  strength, 
artist  was  every  day  more  certain  that  he 
should  leave  vultures  and  eagles  behind 
him,  and  the  contagion  of  his  confldence 
seized  upon  the  prince. 

In  a year  the  wings  were  finished ; and, 
on  a morning  appointed,  the  maker  appeared 
3 


34 


BASSELAS. 


furnished  for  flight  on  a little  promontory: 
he  waved  his  pinions  awhile  to  gather  aii^ 
then  leaped  from  his  stand,  and  in  an  in- 
stant dropped  into  the  lake.  His  wings, 
which  were  of  no  use  in  the  air,  sustained 
him  in  the  water,  and  the  prince  drew  him 
to  land,  half  dead  with  terror  and  ve^tion. 


35 


CHAPTER  Vn. 

The  Prince  finds  a Man  of  Learning; 

The  prince  was  not  much  afflicted  by  this 
disaster,  having  suffered  himself  to  hope  for 
a happier  event,  only  because  he  had  no 
other  means  of  escape  in  view.  He  still 
persisted  in  his  design  to  leave  the  happy 
valley  by  the  first  opportunity. 

His  imagination  was  now  at  a stand ; he 
had  no  prospect  of  entering  into  the  world ; 
and,  notwithstanding  all  his  endeavors  to 
support  himself,  discontent  by  degrees 
preyed  upon  him,  and  he  began  again  to 
lose  his  thoughts  in  sadness,  when  the  rainy 
season,  which  in  these  countries  is  periodi- 
cal, made  it  inconvenient  to  wander  in  the 
woods. 

The  rain  continued  longer  and  with  more 
violence  than  had  ever  been  known ; the 
clouds  broke  on  the  surrounding  mountains, 
and  the  torrents  streamed  into  the  plain  oa 


86 


EASSELAS. 


every  side,  till  the  cavern  was  too  narrow  to 
discharge  the  water.  The  lake  overflowed 
its  banks,  and  all  the  level  of  the  valley  was 
covered  with  the  inundation.  The  eminence 
on  which  the  palace  was  built,  and  some 
other  spots  of  rising  ground,  were  all  that 
the  eye  could  now  discover.  The  herds  and 
flocks  left  the  pastures,  and  both  the  wild 
beasts  and  the  tame  retreated  to  the  moun- 
tains. 

This  inundation  confined  all  the  princes 
to  domestic  amusements,  and  the  attention 
of  Easselas  was  particularly  seized  by  a 
poem,  which  Imlac  rehearsed  upon  the 
various  conditions  of  humanity.  He  com- 
manded the  poet  to  attend  him  in  his  apart- 
ment, and  recite  his  verses  a second  time ; 
then  entering  into  familiar  talk,  he  thought 
himself  happy  in  having  found  a man  who 
knew  the  world  so  well,  and  could  so  skill- 
fully paint  the  scenes  of  life.  He  asked  a 
thousand  questions  about  things,  to  which, 
though  common  to  all  other  mortals,  his 
confinement  from  childhood  had  kept  him  a 
stranger.  The  poet  pitied  his  ignorance  and 
loved  his  curiosity,  and  entertained  him 
from  day  to  day  with  novelty  and  instruc- 


RASSELAS. 


37 


tion,  so  that  the  prince  regretted  the  neces- 
sity of  sleep,  and  longed  till  the  morning 
should  renew  his  pleasure. 

As  they  were  sitting  together  the  prince 
commanded  Imlac  to  relate  his  history,  and 
to  tell  by  what  accident  he  was  forced,  or 
by  what  motive  induced,  to  close  his  life  in 
the  happy  valley.  As  he  was  going  to  begin 
his  narrative,  Rasselas  was  called  to  a con- 
cert, and  obliged  to  restrain  his  curiosity 
till  the  evening. 


BASSELAS. 


CHAPTER  VIIL\ 

The  History  of  Imlac, 

The  close  of  the  day  is,  in  the  regions  of 
the  torrid  zone,  the  only  season  of  diversion 
and  entertainment,  and  it  was  therefore 
midnight  before  the  music  ceased,  and  the 
princes  retired.  Rasselas  then  called  for  his 
companion  and  required  him  to  begin  the 
story  of  his  life. 

‘‘  Sir,”  said  Imlac,  my  history  will  not 
be  long : the  life  that  is  devoted  to  knowl- 
edge passes  silently  away,  and  is  very  little 
diversified  by  events.  To  talk  in  public,  to 
think  in  solitude,  to  read  and  to  hear,  to  in- 
quire and  answer  inquiries,  is  the  business 
of  a scholar.  He  wanders  about  the  world 
without  pomp  or  terror,  and  is  neither 
known  nor  valued  but  by  men  like  himself. 

was  bom  in  the  kingdom  of  Goiama, 
at  no  great  distance  from  the  fountain  of  the 


BASSELAS. 


39 


Kile.  My  father  was  a wealthy  merchant, 
yho  traded  between  the  inland  countries  of 
Afric  and  the  ports  of  the  Red  Sea.  He  was 
honest,  frugal,  and  diligent,  but  of  mean 
sentiments  and  narrow  comprehension;  he 
desired  only  to  be  rich,  and  to  conceal  his 
riches,  lest  he  should  be  spoiled  by  the  gov- 
ernors of  the  province.'’ 

‘‘Surely,”  said  the  prince,  “my  father 
must  be  negligent  of  his  charge,  if  any  man 
in  his  dominions  dares  take  that  which  be- 
longs to  another.  Does  he  not  know  that 
kings  are  accountable  for  injustice  permitted 
as  well  as  done  ? emperpiyjiQiLthe 

meanest  of  my  subjects  should  be  oppressed 
witK  impunity.  My  blood  boils  when  I am 
told  that  a merchant  durst  not  enjoy  his 
honest  gains  for  fear  of  losing  them  by  the 
rapacity  of  power.  Kame  the  governor  who 
robbed  the  people  that  I may  declare  his 
crimes  to  the  emperor.” 

“Sir,”  said  Imlac,  “your  ardor  is  the 
natural  effect  of  virtue  animated  by  youth  : 
the  time  will  come  when  you  will  acquit 
your  father,  and  perhaps  hear  with  less  im- 
patience ot  the  governor.  Oppression  is,  in 
the  Abyssinian  dominions,  neither  frequent 


BASSELAS, 


2#_  .^.erated : but  no  form  of  government 
has  yet  been  discovered,  by  which^uelty 
bo  wholly  prevented.  Subordination 
supposes  power  on  the  one  part,  and  subjec- 
tion on  the  other,  and  if  power  be  in  the 
hands  of  men,  it  will  sometimes  be  abused. 
The  vigilance  of  the  supreme  magistrate 
may  do  much,  but  much  will  still  remain 
undone.  He  can  never  know  all  the  cjime^ 
that  are  committed,  and  can  seldom  punish 
all  that  he  Itoows.'^’ 

“This,”  saidthe  prince,  “ I do  not  under- 
stand, but  I had  rather  hear  thee  than  dis- 
pute. Continue  thy  narration.” 

“ My  father,”  proceeded  Imlac,  “ originally 
intended  that  I should  have  no  other  educiv 
tion  than  such  as  might  qualify  me  for  com- 
merce ; and,  discovering  in  me  great  strength 
of  memory  and  quickness  of  apprehension, 
often  declared  his  hope  that  I should  be 
some  time  the  richest  man  in  Abyssinia.” 

“ Why,”  said  the  prince,  “ did  thy  father 
desire  the  increase  of  his  wealth,  when  it 
was  already  greater  than  he  durst  discover 
or  enjoy?  I am  unwilling  to  doubt  thy 
veracity,  yet  inconsistencies  cannot  both 
be  true.” 


hasselas. 


41 


Inconsistencies,”  answered  Imlac,  “ can- 
not both  be  right ; but,  imputed  to  man,  they 
may  both  be  true.  Yet  diversity  is  not  in-  ^ 
consistency.  My  father  might  expect  a timeX  y 
of  greater  security.  However,  some  desire  ^ 
is  necessary  to  keep  life  in  motion ; andTie  ^ 


T^toseYeal  wants  are  supplied  must  admit 


‘‘  This,”  said  the  prince,  I can  in  some 
measure  conceive.  I repent  that  I inter- 
rupted thee.” 


“With  this  hope,”  proceeded  Imlac,  “he 
sent  me  to  school;  but  when  I had  once 
found  the  delight  of  knowledge,  and  felt  the 
pleasure  of  intelligence  and  the  pride  of 
invention,  I began  silently  to  despise  riches, 
and  determined  to  disappoint  the  purpose 
of  my  father,  whose  grossness  of  conception 
raised  my  pity.  I was  twenty  years  old 
before  his  tenderness  would  expose  me  to 
the  fatigue  of  travel,  in  which  time  I had 
been  instructed,  by  successive  masters,  in  all 
the  literature  of  my  native  country.  As 
every  hour  taught  me  something  new,  I lived 
in  a continual  course  of  gratifications ; but 
as  I advanced  towards  manhood,  I lost  much 
of  the  reverence  with  which  1 had  been  used 


42 


BASSELAS. 


to  look  on  my  instructors;  because,  wuen 
the  lesson  was  ended,  I did  not  find  them 
wiser  or  better  than  common  men. 

“ At  length  my  father  resolved  to  initiate 
me  in  commerce : and,  opening  one  of  his 
subterranean  treasuries,  counted  out  ten 
thousand  pieces  of  gold.  ‘ This,  yoimg  man,’ 
said  he,  ‘ is  the  stock  with  which  you  must 
negotiate.  I began  with  less  than  the  fifth 
part,  and  you  see  how  diligence  and  parsi- 
mony have  increased  it.  This  is  your  own 
to  waste  or  to  improve.  If  you  squander  it 
by  negAgence  or  caprice,  you  must  wait  for 
death  before  you  be  rich ; if,  in  four  years, 
you  double  your  stock,  we  will  thencefor- 
ward let  subordination  cease,  and  live  to- 
gether as  friends  and  partners  ; for  he  shall 
be  always  equal  with  me  who  is  equally 
skilled  in  the  art  of  growing  rich.’ 

*‘We  laid  our  money  upon  camels,  con- 
cealed in  bales  of  cheap  goods,  and  traveled 
to  the  shore  of  the  Red  Sea.  When  I cast 
my  eye  upon  the  expanse  of  waters,  my 
heart  bounded  like  that  of  a prisoner  escaped. 
I felt  an  unextinguishable  curiosity  kindle 
in  my  mind,  and  resolved  to  snatch  this  op- 
portunity of  seeing  the  manners  of  other 


BASSELAS. 


43 


nations,  and  of  learning  sciences  unknown 
in  Abyssinia. 

“ I remember  that  my  father  had  obliged 
me  to  the  unprovement  of  my  stock,  not  by 
a promise  which  I ought  not  to  violate,  but 
by  a penalty  which  I was  at  liberty  to  incur ; 
and  therefore  determined  to  gratify  my  pre- 
dominant desire,  and,  by  drinking  at  the 
fountains  of  knowledge,  to  quench  the  thirst 
Ol  curiosity. 

<‘AsI  was  supposed  to  trade  without  con- 
nection with  my  father,  it  was  easy  for  me 
to  become  acquainted  with  the  master  of  a 
ship,  and  procure  a passage  to  some  other 
country.  I had  no  motives  of  choice  to  reg- 
ulate my  voyage:  it  was  sufficient  for  me 
that,  wherever  I wandered,  I should  see  a 
country  which  I had  not  seen  before.  I 
tfierefore  entered  a ship  bound  for  Surat, 
having  left  a letter  for  my  father  declaring 
my  intention.” 


44 


BASSELA3. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

The  History  of  Imlac  continued. 

‘‘Wheis-  I first  entered  upon  the  world 
of  waters,  and  lost  sight  of  land,  I looked 
round  about  me  with  pleasing  terror,  and, 
thinking  my  soul  enlarged  by  the  boundless 
prospect,  imagined  that  I could  gaze  round 
without  satiety,  but,  in  a short  time,  I grew 
weary  of  looking  on  barren  uniformity, 
where  I could  only  see  again  what  I had 
already  seen.  I then  descended  into  the  ship, 
and  doubted  for  a while  whether  all  my  f utui  e 
pleasures  would  not  end  like  this,  in  dis- 
gust and  disappointment.  Yet,  surely,  said 
I,  the  ocean  and  the  land  are  very  different ; 
the  only  variety  of  Avater  is  rest  and  motion, 
but  the  earth  has  mountains  and  valleys, 
deserts  and  cities : it  is  inhabited  by  men 
of  different  customs  and  contrary  opinions; ; 
and  I may  hope  to  find  variety  in  life 
though  I should  miss  it  in  nature. 


BASSELAS. 


^ 45 


“ With  this  thought  I quieted  my  mind, 
and  amused  myself  during  the  voyage, 
sometimes  by  learning  from  the  sailors  the 
art  of  navigation,  which  I have  never  prac- 
ticed, and  sometimes  by  forming  schemes 
for  my  conduct  in  different  situations,  in 
not  one  of  which  I have  been  ever  placed. 

‘‘  I was  almost  weary  of  my  naval  amuse- 
ments when  Ave  landed  safely  at  Surat.  I 
secured  my  money,  and  purchasing  some 
commodities  for  show,  joined  myself  to  a 
caravan  that  was  passing  into  the  inland 
country.  My  companions,  for  some  reason 
or  other,  conjecturing  that  I was  rich,  and, 
by  my  inquiries  and  admiration,  finding  that 
I was  ignorant,  considered  me  as  a novice 
whom  they  had  a right  to  cheat,  and  who 
was  to  learn  at  the  usual  expense  the  art  of 
fraud.  They  exposed  me  to  the  theft  of 
servants  and  the  exaction  of  officers,  and 
saw  me  plundered  upon  false  pretences, 
without  any  advantage  to  themselves,  but 
that  of  rejoicing  in  the  superiority  of  their 
own  knowledge.” 

‘‘  Stop  a moment,”  said  the  prince.  “ Ts 
there  such  depravity  in  man  as  that  he 
should  injure  another  without  benefit  to 


46 


BASSELAS. 


himself  ? I can  easily  conceive  that  all  aro 
pleased  with  superiority;  but  your  ignor- 
ance was  merely  accidental,  which,  being 
neither  your  crime  nor  your  folly,  could 
afford  them  no  reason  to  applaud  them- 
selves ; and  the  knowledge  which  they  had, 
and  which  you  wanted,  they  might  as  effectu- 
ally have  shown  by  warning  as  betraying 
you.” 

‘‘Pride,”  said  Imlac,  “is  seldom  delicate, 
it  will  please  itself  with  very  mean  advan- 
tages ; and  envy  feels  not  its  own  happiness, 
but  when  it  may  be  compared  with  the 
misery  of  others.  They  were  my  enemies, 
because  they  grieved  to  think  me  rich,  and 
my  oppressors,  because  they  delighted  to 
find  me  weak.” 

“ Proceed,”  said  the  prince  ; “ I doul  t 
not  of  the  facts  which  you  relate,  but 
imagine  that  you  impute  them  to  mistaken 
motives.” 

“ In  this  company,”  said  Imlac,  “ I arrived 
at  Agra,  the  capital  of  Indostan,  the  city  ia 
which  the  Great  Mogul  commonly  resides. 
I applied  myself  to  the  language  of  the 
country,  and  in  a few  months  was  able  to 
•converse  with  the  learned  men : some  of 


BASSELAS, 


47 


whom  I found  morose  and  reserved  and 
others  easy  and  communicative ; some 
were  unwilling  to  teach  another  what 
they  had  with  difficulty  learned  themselves, 
and  some  showed  that  the  end  of  their  studies 
was  to  gain  the  dignity  of  instructing. 

‘‘To  the  tutor  of  the  young  princes  I 
recommended  myself  so  much  that  I was 
presented  to  the  emperor  as  a man  of 
uncommon  knowledge.  The  emperor  asked 
me  many  questions  concerning  my  country 
and  my  travels ; and  though  I cannot  now 
recollect  anything  that  he  uttered  above  the 
power  of  a common  man,  he  dismissed  mo 
astonished  at  his  wisdom,  and  enamored  of 
his  goodness. 

“My  credit  was  now  so  high  that  the 
merchants  with  whom  I traveled  applied 
to  me  for  recommendations  to  the  ladies  of 
the  court.  I was  surprised  at  their  confidence 
of  solicitation,  and  gently  reproached  them 
with  their  practices  on  the  road.  They 
heard  me  with  cold  indifference,  and  showed 
no  tokens  of  shame  or  sorrow. 

“ They  then  urged  their  request  with  the 
offer  of  a bribe : but  what  I would  not  do 
for  kindness,  I would  not  do  for  money; 


/ 

48  BASSELAS. 

and  refused  them,  not  because  they  had 
injilred  me,  but  because  I would  not  enable 
them  to  injure  others  ; for  I knew  they  would 
ha^  e made  use  of  my  credit  to  cheat  those 
who  should  buy  their  wares. 

‘‘  Having  resided  at  Agra  till  there  was  no 
more  to  be  learned,  I traveled  into  Persia, 
where  I saw  many  remains  of  ancient  mag- 
nificence, and  observed  many  new  accom- 
modations of  life.  The  Persians  are  a 
nation  eminently  social,  and  their  assemblies 
afforded  me  daily  opportunities  of  remark- 
ing characters  and  manners,  and  of  tracing 
human  nature  through  all  its  variations. 

‘‘  From  Persia  I passed  into  Arabia,  where 
I saw  a nation  at  once  pastoral  and  Ararlike ; 
who  live  without  any  settled  habitation ; 
whose  only  wealth  is  their  flocks  and 
herds ; and  who  have  yet  carried  on,  through 
all  ages,  an  hereditary  war  with  all  man- 
kind, though  they  neither  covet  nor  envy 
their  possessions.” 


49 


CHAPTER  X. 

mlac’s  History  continued.  A Dissertation  on 
Poetry. 

‘‘Wherever  I went,  I found  that  poetry 
was  considered  as  the  highest  learning,  and 
regarded  with  a veneration  somewhat  ap- 
proaching to  that  which  man  would  pay  to 
the  Angelic  IsTature.  And  yet  it  fills  me 
with  wonder,  that,  in  almost  all  countries, 
the  most  ancient  poets  are  considered  as  the 
best ; whether  it  be  that  every  other  kind 
of  knowledge  is  an  acquisition  gradually 
attained,  and  poetry  is  a gift  conferred  at 
once ; or  that  the  first  poetry  of  eVery  na- 
tion surprised  them  as  a novelty,  and  re- 
tained the  credit  by  consent,  which  it  re- 
ceived by  accident  at  first : or  whether,  as 
the  province  of  poetry  is  to  describe  nature 
and  passion,  which  are  always  the  same,  the 
first  _yTiters  took  possession  of  the  most 
striking  objects  for  description,  and  the 
most  probable  occurrences  for  fiction,  and 
4 


50 


RASSELAS, 


left  nothing  to  those  that  followed  them,  but 
transcription  of  the  same  events,  and  new 
combinations  of  the  same  images.  What- 
ever be  the  reason,  it  is  commonly  observed 
that  the  early  writers  are  in  possession  of 
nature,  ^nd  their  followers  of  art ; that  the 
first  excel  in  strength  and  invention,  and 
the  latter  in  elegance  and  refinement. 

‘‘  I was  desirous  to  add  niy  name  to  this 
illustrious  fraternity.  I read  all  the  poets 
of  Persia  and  Arabia,  and  was  able  to  re- 
peat by  memory  the  volumes  that  are  sus- 
pended in  the  mosque  of  Mecca.  But  I 
soon  found  that  no  man  was  great  by  imita- 
tion. My  desire  of  excellence  impelled  me 
to  transfer  my  attention  ro  nature  and  to 
life.  Nature  was  to  be  my  subject,  and 
men  to  be  my  auditors : I could  never  de- 
scribe what  I had  not  seen : I could  not 
hope  to  move  those  with  delight  or  terror, 
whose  interests  and  opinions  I did  not  under- 
stand. 

“ Being  now  resolved  to  be  a poet,  I saw 
everything  with  a new  purpose ; my  sphere 
of  attention  was  suddenly  magnified : no 
kind  of  knowledge  was  to  be  overlooked.  I 
ranged  mountains  and  deserts  for  images 


BASSELAS. 


51 


and  resemblances,  and  pictured  upon  my 
mind  every  tree  of  the  forest  and  flower  of 
the  valley.  I observed  with  ecpial  care  the 
crags  of  the  rock  and  the  pinnacles  of  the 
palace.  Sometimes  I wandered  along  the 
mazes  of  the  rivulet,  and  sometimes  watched 
the  changes  of  the  summer  clouds.  To 
poet  nothing  can  be  useless.  Whatever  i:i 
beautiful  and  whatever  is  dreadful  must  be 
familiar  to  his  imagination : he  must  be  con- 
versant with  all  that  is  awfully  vast  or  ele- 
gantly little.  The  plants  of  the  garden,  the 
animals  of  the  wood,  the  minerals  of  the 
earth,  and  meteors  of  the  sky,  must  all  con- 
cur to  store  his  mind  with  inexhaustible 
variety:  for  every  idea  is  useful  for  the 
enforcement  or  decoration  of  moral  or  relig- 
ious  truth ; and  he  who  knows  most  will 
have  most  power  of  diversifying  his  scenes, 
and  of  gratifying  his  reader  with  remote 
allusions  and  unexpected  instruction. 

‘‘All  the  appearances  of  nature  I was 
therefore  careful  to  study ; and  every  coun- 
try which  I have  surveyed  has  contributed 
something  to  my  poetical  powers.” 

“ In  so  wide  a survey,”  said  the  prince, 
“you  must  surely  have  left  much  uuob* 


52 


BASSLLAS. 


served.  I have  lived,  till  now,  within  the 
circuit  of  these  mountains,  and  yet  cannot 
walk  abroad  without  the  sight  of  something 
which  I had  never  beheld  before  or  never 
heeded.” 

‘‘  The  business  of  a poet,”  said  Imlac,  “ is 
to  examine,  not  the  individual,  but  the 
species  ; to  remark  general  properties  and 
large  appearances ; he  does  not  number  the 
streaks  of  the  tulip,  or  describe  the  different 
shades  in  the  verdure  of  the  forest.  He  is 
to  exhibit  in  his  portraits  of  nature  such 
prominent  and  striking  features  as  recall 
the  original  to  every  mind ; and  must  neg- 
lect the  minuter  discriminations,  which 
one  may  have  remarked,  and  another  have 
neglected,  for  those  characteristics  which 
are  alike  obvious  to  vigilance  and  careless- 
ness. 

“ But  the  knowledge  of  nature  is  only  half 
the  task  of  a poet ; he  must  be  acquainted 
likewise  with  all  the  modes  of  life.  His 
character  requires  that  he  estimate  the  happi- 
ness and  misery  of  every  condition ; observe 
the  power  of  all  the  passions  in  all  their  com- 
binations, and  trace  the  changes  of  the 
human  mind  as  they  are  modified  by  various- 


BASSELAS. 


63 


institutions  and  accidental  influences  of  cli- 
mate or  custom,  from  the  sprightliness  of 
infancy  to  the  despondence  of  decrepitude. 
He  must  divest  himself  of  the  prejudices  of 
his  age  or  country  ; he  must  consider  right 
and  wrong  in  their  abstracted  and  invariable 
state ; he  must  disregard  present  laws  and 
opinions,  and  rise  to  general  and  transcen- 
dental truths,  which  will  always  be  the 
same;  he  must  therefore  content  himself 
with  the  slow  progress  of  his  name ; con- 
temn the  applause  of  his  own  time,  and 
commit  his  claims  to  the  justice  of  poster! ty* 
He  must  write  as  the  interpreter  of  nature, 
and  the  legislator  of  mankind,  and  consider 
himself  as  presiding  over  the  thoughts  and 
manners  of  future  generations ; as  a being 
superior  to  time  and  place. 

“ His  labor  is  not  yet  at  an  end ; he  must 
know  many  languages  and  many  sciences : 
and,  that  his  style  may  be  worthy  of  his 
thoughts,  must,  by  incessant  practice,  famil- 
iarize to  himself  every  delicacy  of  speech 
and  grace  of  harmony.” 


64 


CHAPTER  XL 

Imlac’s  Narrative  continued.  A Hint  on  Pilgrimagai 

Imlac  now  felt  the  enthusiastic  fit,  and 
was  proceeding  to  aggrandize  his  own  pro- 
fession, when  the  prince  cried  out, 
Enough ! thou  hast  convinced  me  that  no 
human  being  can  ever  be  a poet.  Proceed 
with  thy  narration.” 

^'To  be  a poet,”  said  Imlac,  ‘‘is  indeed 
very  difficult.” 

“ So  difficult,”  returned  the  prince,  “ that 
I will  at  present  hear  no  more  of  his  labors. 
Tell  me  whither  you  went  when  you  had 
seen  Persia.” 

“ From  Persia,”  said  the  poet,  “ I traveled 
through  Byria,  and  for  three  years  resided 
in  Palestine,  where  I conversed  with  great 
numbers  of  the  northern  and  western  na- 
tions of  Europe ; the  nations  which  are  now 
in  possession  of  all  power  and  all  knowledge: 
Vhose  armies  are  irresistible,  and  whose 


BASSELAS, 


65 


fleets  command  the  remotest  parts  of  the 
globe.  When  I compared  these  men  with 
the  natives  of  our  own  Idngdom,  and  those 
that  surround  us,  they  appeared  almost  an- 
other order  of  beings.  In  their  countries  it 
is  difficult  to  wish  for  anything  that  may 
not  be  obtained : a thousand  arts,  of  which 
we  never  heard,  are  continually  laboring  for 
their  convenience  and  pleasure ; and  what- 
ever their  own  climate  has  denied  them  is 
supplied  by  their  commerce.” 

‘‘  By  what  means,”  said  the  prince,  ‘‘  are 
the  Europeans  thus  powerful ; or  why,  since 
they  can  so  easily  visit  Asia  or  Africa  for 
trade  or  conquest,  cannot  the  Asiatics  and 
Africans  invade  their  coasts,  plant  colonies 
in  their  ports,  and  give  laws  to  their  natural 
princes  ? The  same  wind  that  carries  them 
back  would  bring  us  thither.” 

‘‘  They  are  more  powerful,  sir,  than  we,” 
answered  Imlac,  “because  they  are  wiser  - 
knowledge  will  always  predominate  over 
(ignorance,  as  man  governs  the  other  ani- 
mals. But  why  their  knowledge  is  more 
than  ours,  I know  not  what  reason  can  be 
given,  but  the  unsearchable  will  of  the 
Supreme  Being.” 


I 

\ 


66 


BASSELAS. 


“When,”  said  the  prince  with  a sigh, 
“ shall  I be  uble  to  visit  Palestine,  and  min- 
gle with  this  mighty  confluence  of  nations  ? 
Till  that  happy  moment  shall  arrive,  let  me 
All  up  the  time  with  such  representations 
as  thou  canst  give  me.  I am  not  ignorant  of 
the  motive  that  assembles  such  numbers  in. 
that  place,  and  cannot  but  consider  it  as  the 
center  of  wisdoma^d  piety,  to  which  the 
best  and  wisest  ewry  land  must  be  con- 
tinually resorting.” 

“There  are  some  nations,”  said  Imlac, 
“ that  send  few  visitants  to  Palestine ; for 
many  numerous  and  learned  sects  in  Europe 
concur  to  censure  pilgrimage  as  supersti- 
tious or  deride  it  as  ridiculous.” 

“You  know,”  said  the  prince,  “how little 
my  life  has  made  me  acquainted  with  diver- 
sity of  opinions : it  will  be  too  long  to  hear 
the  arguments  on  both  sides ; you,  that  have 
considered  them,  tell  me  the  result.” 

' ^ilgrimage,”  said  Imlac,  “like  many 
acts  of  piety,  may  be  reasonable  or 
•stitious,  according  to  the  principles 
which  it  is  performed.  Long  journeys 
3arch  of  truth  are  not  commaiided. 
ti,  such  as  is  ne^ssary  to'^tD&T^Sgulatioii 


BASSELAS. 


57 

of  life,  is  always  found  where  it  is  honestly 

sought.  Change  of  place  is  no  natural  cause 
of  the  increase  of  piety,  for  it  inevitably 
produces  dissipation  of  mind.  Yet,  since 
men  go  every  day  to  view  the  fields 
where  great  actions  have  been  performed, 
and  rejium  with  stronger  imprf^ssinns  of  the 
evenh,cur^itv^'  the  same  kind  may jiat- 
urally  dispose  lis  to  vie^  tnaF^  country 
whence  our  religion  had  its  beginning : and 
I believe  no  man  surveys  thosg  awful  scenes 
^thout'  sonie'nr^n'firniaLT^^  ^->017 
tions.  That  the  Supreme  Being  may  be' 
more  easily  propitiated  in  one  place  than  in 
another  is  the  dream  of  idle  superstition;, 
but  that  some  places  may  operate  upon  our 
minds  in  an  uncommon  manner  is  an  opin- 
ion which  hourly  experience  will  justify. 
He  who  supposes  that  his  vices  may  be  more 
successfully  combated  in  Palestine  will,  per- 
haps, find  himself  mistaken ; yet  he  may  go 
thither  without  folly : he  who  thinks  they 
will  be  more  freely  pardoned  dishonors  at 
once  his  reason  and  religion.” 

“ These,”  said  the  prince,  “ are  European 
distinctions.  I will  consider  them  another 
time.  What  have  you  found  to  be  the  effect 


58 


RASSELAS. 


of  knowledge  ? Are  those  nations  happiei 
than  we  ? ” 

There  is  so  much  infelicity,”  said  the 
poet,  “ in  the  world,  that  scarce  any  man  has 
leisure  from  his  own  distresses  to  estimate 
the  comparative  happiness  of  others.  Knowl- 
edge, is  certainly  one  of  the  means  of  pleas- 
ure as  is  confessed  by  the  natural  desire 
which  every  mind  feels  of  increasing  its 
ideas.  Ignorance  is  mere  privaticm,  by 
which  nothing  can  be  produced:  it  is  a 
vacuity  in  which  the  soul  sits  motionless 
and  torpid  for  want  of  attraction  ; and, 
without  knowing  why,  we  always  rejoice 
when  we  learn,  and  grieve  when  we  forget* 
I am  therefore  inclined  to  conclude,  that 
if  nothing  counteracts  the  natural  conse- 
quence of  learning,  we  grow  more  happy 
as  our  minds  take  a wider  range. 

^ In  enumerating  the  particular  comforts 
of  life,  we  shall  find  many  advantages  on 
the  side  of  the  Europeans.  They  cure 
wounds  and  diseases  with  which  we  lan- 
guish and  perish.  TTe  suffer  inclemencies 
of  weather  which  they  can  obviate.  They 
have  engines  for  the  despatch  of  many  labor- 
ious works  which  we  must  perform  by 


liASSELAS. 


bd 

manual  industry.  There  is  such  communi- 
cation beween  distant  places  that  one  friend 
can  hardly  be  said  to  be  absent  from 
another.  Their  policy  removes  all  public  in- 
conveniences ; they  have  roads  cut  through 
their  mountains,  and  bridges  laid  upon 
their  rivers.  And,  if  we  descend  to  the 
privacies  of  life,  their  habitations  are  more 
commodious,  and  their  possessions  are  more 
lecure.” 

They  are  surely  happy,”  said  the 
prince,  who  have  all  these  conveniences, 
of  which  I envy  none  so  much  as  the  facil- 
ity with  which  separated  friends  inter- 
change their  thoughts.” 

The  Europeans,”  answered  Imlac,  are 
less  unhappy  than  we,  but  they  are  not 
happy.  Human  life  is  everywhere  a state 
inwhich  much  is  to  be  endured,  and  little 
to  be  enjoyecL” 


BASJSELAS- 


(>0 


CHAPTER  XIL 

The  Story  of  Imlac  continued,  ; 

I AM  not  yet  willing,’’  said  the  prince, 

‘‘  to  suppose  that  happiness  is  so  paxsimon-  * 
iously  distributed  to  mortals ; nor  can  be- 
lieve  but  that,  if  I had  the^choice  of  life,  I 
should  be  able  to  fill  every  day  with  pleas- 
ure. I would  injure  no  man,  and  should  ; 
provoke  no  resentment:  I would  relieve  ^ 
every  distress,  and  should  enjoy  the  bene-  | 
dictions  of  gratitude.  I would  choose  my  1 
friends  among  the  wise  and  my  wife  among  | 
the  virtuous  ; and  therefore  should  be  in  no  * 
danger  from  treachery  or  unkindness.  My 
children  should,  by  my  care,  be  learned  and 
pious,  and  would  repay  to  my  age  what  their 
childhood  had  received.  What  would  dare 
to  molest  him  who  might  call  on  over}^  side 
to  thousands  enriched  by  Ins  bounty,  or 
assisted  by  his  power  ? And  wdiy  should 
not  life  glide  quietly  away  in  the  soft 


RASSELAS. 


6T 


reciprocation  of  protection  and  reverence  ? 
All  this  may  be  done  without  the  help  of 
European  refinements,  which  appear  by 
their  effects  to  be  rather  specious  than 
useful.  Let  us  leave  them,  and  pursue  our 
journey.” 

“ From  Palestine,”  said  Imlac,  I passed 
through  many  regions  of  Asia,  in  the  more 
cmlized  kingdoms  as  a trader,  and  among 
the  barbarians  of  the  mountains  as  a pilgrim. 
At  last  I began  to  long  for  my  native 
country,  that  I might  repose,  after  my 
travels  and  fatigues,  in  the  places  where  I 
had  spent  my  earliest  years,  and  gladden 
my  old  companions  with  the  recital  of  my 
adventures.  Often  did  I figure  to  myself 
those  with  whom  I had  sported  away  the 
gay  hours  of  dawning  life,  sitting  round  me 
in  its  evening,  wondering  at  my  tales,  and 
listening  to  my  counsels. 

“ When  this  thought  had  taken  posses- 
sion of  my  mind,  I considered  every  moment 
as  wasted  which  did  not  bring  me  nearer 
to  Abyssinia.  I hastened  into  Egypt,  and 
notwithstanding  my  impatience,  was  de- 
tained ten  months  in  the  contemplation  of 
its  ancient  magnificence,  and  in  inquiries 


62 


BASSELAS. 


after  the  remains  of  its  ancient  learning, 
I tgund  jiL._paixa-aL  mxtnre  .of  aU-eatiou,^  \ 
some  brought  thither  by  the  love  of  knowi- 
edge,  some  by  the  hope  of,  .gain,  and  many 
byHEhe  desire  of  liYing  after  their  o\¥ti 
manner^mthout  observation,  and  of  lying 
hid  m the  obscurity  of  multitudes ; ToF  in 
populous  as  Cairo,  it  is  possible  to 
obtaii^  at  the  same  time  the 
of  society  and  ±ha  senreoy  of  solitude. 
^^""^FProm  Cairo  I traveled  to  Suez,  and  em- 
barked on  the  Red  Sea,  passing  along  the 
coast  till  I arrived  at  the  port  from  which  I 
had  departed  twenty  years  before.  ITere  I 
joined  myself  to  a caravan,  and  re-entered 
my  native  country. 

I now  expected  the  caresses  of  my  kins- 
men, and  the  congratulations  of  my  friends, 
and  was  not  without  hope  that  my  father, 
whatever  value  he  had  set  upon  riches, 
would  own  with  gladness  and  pride  a son 
who  was  able  to  add  to  the  felicity  and 
honor  of  the  nation.  But  I was  soon  con- 
vinced that  my  thoughts  were  vain.  My 
father  had  been  dead  fourteen  years,  having 
divided  his  wealth  among  my  brothers,  who 
were  removed  to  some  other  proyinoea. 


EASSELAS, 


63 


Of  my  companions  the  greater  part  was  in 
the  grave;  of  the  rest,  some  could  with 
difficulty  remember  me,  and  some  con- 
sidered me  as  one  corrupted  by  foreign 
manners. 

‘‘A  man  used  to  vicissitudes  is  not  easily 
dejected.  I forgot,  after  a time,  my  dis- 
appointment, and  endeavored  to  recommend 
myself  to  the  nobles  of  the  kingdom ; they 
admitted  me  to  their  tables,  heard  my  story, 
and  dismissed  me.  I opened  a school,  and 
was  prohibited  to  teach.  I then  resolved  to 
sit  down  in  the  quiet  of  domestic  life,  and 
addressed  a lady  that  was  fond  of  my  con- 
versation, but  rejected  my  suit  because  my 
father  was  a merchant. 

“ Wearied  at  last  with  solicitations  and 
repulses,  I resolved  to  hide  myself  forever 
from  the  world,  and  depend  no  longer  on  the 
opinion  or  caprice  of  others.  I waited  for 
the  time  when  the  gate  of  the  happy  valley 
should  open,  that  I might  bid  farewell  to 
hope  and  fear : the  day  came ; my  perform- 
ance was  distinguished  with  favor,  and  T 
resigned  myself  with  joy  to  perpetual 
confinement.” 

‘‘  Hast  thou  here  found  happiness  at  last  ? ” 


64 


HASSELAS. 


“ TeH  me  without  reserve , art  thou  conteik, 
with  thy  condition  ? or,  dost  thou  wish  to  be 
again  wandering  and  inquiring  ? All  the  in. 
habitants  of  this  valley  celebrate  their  lot^ 
and  at  the  annual  visit  of  the  emperor  invite 
others  to  partake  of  their  felicity.” 

“ Great  prince,”  said  Imlac,  ‘‘I  shall 
speak  the  truth  ; I know  not  one  of  all  your 
attendants  who  does  not  lament  the  hour 
when  he  entered  this  retreat.  I am  less 
unhappy  than  the  rest,  because  I have  a 
mind  replete  with  images,  which  I can  vary 
and  combine  at  pleasure.  I can  amuse  my 
solitude  by  the  renovation  of  the  knowledge 
which  begins  to  fade  from  my  memorj^,  and 
by  recollections  of  the  incidents  of  my  past 
life.  Yet  all  this  ends  in  the  sorrowful  con- 
sideration, that  my  acquirements  are  now 
useless,  and  that  none  of  my  pleasures  can 
be  again  enjoyed.  The  rest,  whose  minds 
have  no  impression  but  that  of  the  present 
moment,  are  either  corroded  by  malignant 
passions  or  sit  stupid  in  the  gloom  of  per- 
’^tual  vacancy.” 

‘‘  What  passions  can  infest  those,”  said 
the  prince,  ‘‘  who  have  no  rivals  ? We  are 
in  a place  where  impotence  precludes  malice. 


MASSELAS, 


G5 


and  where  all  envy  is  repressed  by  com- 
munity of  enjoyments.” 

There  may  be  community,”  said 
" of  material  possessions,  but  thei  a caa 
never  be  community  of  love  or  of  esteem.  Ife 
must  happen  that  one  will  please  more  thaii 
another:  he  that  knows  himself  despised 
will  always  be  envious ; and  still  more  en- 
vious and  malevolent,  if  he  is  condemned 
to  live  ill  the  presence  of  those  who 
despise  him.  The  invitations  by  which 
they  allure  others  to  a state  which  they  feel 
to  be  wretched,  proceed  from  the  natural 
malignity  of  hopeless  misery.  They  are 
weary  of  themselves  and  of  each  other,  and 
expect  to  find  relief  in  new  companions. 
They  envy  the  liberty  which  their  folly  has 
forfeited,  and  would  gladly  see  all  mankmd 
imprisoned  like  themselves. 

“ From  this  crime,  however,  I am  wholly 
free.  No  man  can  say  that  he  is  wretched 
by  my  persuasion.  I look  with  pity  on  the 
crowds  who  are  annually  soliciting  admission 
into  captivity,  and  wish  that  it  were  lawful 
for  me  to  warn  them  of  their  danger.” 

“ My  dear  Imlac,”  said  the  prince,  “ I will 
open  to  thee  my  whole  heart.  I have  long 


66 


liASSELAS. 


meditated  an  escape  from  the  happy  valley, 

I have  exammed  the  mountains  on  every 
side,  and  find  myself  insuperably  barred: 
teach  me  the  way  to  break  my  prison : thou 
shalt  be  the  companion  of  my  flight,  the  ^ 
guide  of  my  rambles,  the  partner  of  my  for- 
tune, and  my  sole  director  in  the  choice  of 
life:^ 

f ‘‘  Sir,”  answered  the  poet,  “ your  escape 
will  be  difficult ; and,  perhaps,  you  may  soon 
repent  your  curiosity.  The  world,  which 
you  figure  to  yourself  smooth  and  quiet,  as 
the  lake  in  the  valley,  you  will  find  a sea  f oann 
ing  with  tempests  and  boiling  with  whirl . 
pools  : you  will  be  sometimes  overwhelmed 
with  the  waves  of  violence,  and  sometimes 
dashed  against  the  rocks  of  treachery. 
Amidst  wrongs  and  frauds,  competitions 
and  anxieties,  you  will  wish  a thousand  times 
for  these  seats  of  quiet,  and  willingly  quit 
hope  to  be  free  from  fear.” 

Do  not  seek  to  deter  me  from  my  pui*- 
pose,”  said  the  prince ; “ I am  impatient  to 
see  what  thou  hast  seen ; and  since  thou  art 
thyself  weary  of  the  valley,  it  is  evident 
that  thy  former  state  was  better  than  this. 
Whatever  be  the  consequence  of  my  experi- 


EASSELA8. 


ment,  I am  resolved  to  judge  with  mine  own 
eyes  of  the  various  conditions  of  men,  and 
then  to  make  deliberately  my  choice  of  life^ 
“ I am  afraid,”  said  Imlac,  you  are 
hindered  by  stronger  restraints  than  my 
persuasions;  yet,  if  your  determination  is 
fixed,  I do  not  counsel  you  to  despair.  Few 
things  are  impossible  to  diligence  and 
«kiU.” 


lijlSSELAS. 


68 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

Rasselas  Discovers  the  Means  of  Escape. 

The  prince  now  dismissed  his  favorite  to 
rest,  but  the  narrative  of  wonders  and  novel- 
ties filled  his  mind  with  perturbation.  He 
revolved  all  that  he  had  heard,  and  prepared 
innumerable  questions  for  the  morning. 

Much  of  his  uneasiness  was  now  removed. 
He  had  a friend  to  whom  he  could  impart 
his  thoughts,  and  whose  experience  could 
assist  him  in  his  designs.  His  heart  was  no 
longer  condemned  to  swell  in  silent  vexation. 
He  thought  that  even  the  happy  valley  might 
be  endured  with  such  a companion;  and 
that  if  they  could  range  the  world  together, 
he  should  have  nothing  further  to  desire. 

In  a few  days  the  water  was  discharged, 
and  the  ground  dried.  The  prince  and 
Imlac  then  walked  out  together  to  converse 
without  the  notice  of  the  rest.  The  prince, 
whose  thoughts  were  always  on  the  wing^ 


BASSELAS. 


69 


as  he  passed  by  the  gate,  said,  with  a coun-» 
tenance  of  sorrow,  “ Why  art  thou  so  strong, 
and  why  is  man  so  weak  ? ” 

“Man  is  not  weak,”  answered  his  com^ 
panion  ; “ knowledge  is  more  than  equivalent 
to  force.  The  master  of  mechanics  laugha 
at  strength.  I can  burst  the  gate,  but  can- 
not do  it  secretly.  Some  other  expedient 
must  be  tried.” 

As  they  were  walking  on  the  side  of  the 
mountain,  they  observed  that  the  conies, 
which  the  rain  had  driven  from  their  bur- 
rows, had  taken  shelter  among  the  bushes, 
and  formed  holes  behind  them,  tending  up- 
wards in  an  oblique  line.  “ It  has  been  the 
opinion  of  antiquity,”  said  Imlac,  “tliat 
human  reason  borrowed  m\]nj  n f prtrr|  ibg 

instinct  of  animals;  let  us,  therefore,  not 
think  ourselves  degraded  by  learning  from 
the  con}^  We  may  escape  by  piercing  the 
mountain  in  the  same  direction.  We  will 
begin  where  the  summit  hangs  over  the 
middle  part,  and  labor  upward  till  we  shall 
issue  up  beyond  the  prominence.” 

The  eyes  of  the  prince,  when  he  heard 
this  proposal,  sparkled  v/ith  joy.  The  ex- 
ecution was  easy,  and  the  success  certain. 


70 


JIASSELAS. 


^ J 
ihf 


No  time  was  now  lost.  The^  hastened^ 
early  in  the  morning,  to  choose  a place 
proper  for  their  mind.  They  clambered  with 
great  fatigue  among  crags  and  brambles, 
and  returned  without  having  discovered  any 
part  that  favored  their  design.  The  second 
and  third  day  Avere  spent  in  the  same  man- 
ner, and  with  the  same  frustration.  But, 
on  the  fourth,  they  found  a small  cavern, 
concealed Iby  a thicket,  where  they  resolved 
to  make  their  experiment. 

Imlac  procured  instruments  proper  to  hew 
stone  and  remove  earth,  and  they  fell  to 
their  work  the  next  day  with  more  eager- 
ness than  vigor.  "Biey  were  presently  ex- 
hausted by  their  efforts,  and  sat  down  to 
pant  upon  the  grass.  The  prince,  for  a 
moment,  appeared  to  be  discouraged.  Sir,’’ 
said  his  companion,  ‘‘  practice  will  enable  us 
to  continue  our  labor  for  a longer  time; 
mark,  however,  how  far  we  have  advanced, 
and  you  will  find  that  our  toil  will  some 
time  have  an  end.  Great  v/orks  are  per- 
formed, not  by  s^engfe^  hut  persever- 
ance;  yonder  palace  was  raisedby  sin^e 
stones,  yet  you  see  its  height  and  spacious- 
ness, He  that  shall  walk  with  vigor  thi^ee 


BASSELAS.  71 

hours  a day,  will  pass  in  seven  years  a space 
equal  to  the  circumference  of  the  globe.” 

They  returned  to  their  work  day  after 
day ; and,  in  a short  time,  found  a fissure  in 
the  rock,  which  enabled  them  to  pass  far 
with  very  little  obstruction.  This  Rasselas 
considered  as  a good  omen.  Do  not  dis- 
turb your  mind,”  said  Imlac,  “ with  other 
hopes  and  fears  than  reason  may  suggest: 
if  you  are  jpleased  with  prognostics  of  good, 
you  will  be  terrified  likewise  with  tokens  of 
evil,  and  your  whole  life  will  be  a prey  to 
superstition,  yt^hatever  facilitates  our  work 
is  more  than  an  omen,  it  is  a cause  of  suc- 
cess! This  is  one  oi  tnose  pleasing  surprises 
which  often  happen  to  active  resolution. 
Many  things  difficult  to  design  prove  easy 
to  performance.” 


72 


MASSELASk 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

Basselas  and  Imlac  Receive  an  Unexpected  Visit. 

had  now  wrought  their  way  to  the 
middle,  and  solaced  their  thoughts  with  the 
approach  of  liberty,  when  the  prince  coming 
down  to  refresh  himself  with  air,  found  his 
sister  Nekayah  standing  before  the  mouth 
of  the  cavity.  He  started  and  stood  con- 
fused, afraid  to  tell  his  design,  and  yet  hope- 
less to  conceal  it.  A few  moments  deter- 
repose  on  her  fidelity,  and 
her  secrecy  by  a declaration  without 

) not  imagine,”  said  the  princess, 
I came  hither  as  a spy : I had  long 
observed  from  my  window,  that  you  and 
Imlac  directed  your  walk  every  day  towards 
the  same  point,  but  I did  not  suppose  you 
had  any  better  reason  for  the  preference 
than  a cooler  shade,  or  more  fragrant  bank ; 
nor  followed  you  with  any  other  design  than 


RASSELAS, 


73 


to  partake  of  your  conversation.  Since, 
then,  not  suspicion  but  fondness  has  de- 
tected you,  let  me  not  lose  the  advantage  of 
my  discovery.  I am  equally  weary  of  con- 
finement with  yourself,  and  not  less  desirous 
of  knowing  what  is  done  or  suffered  in  the 
world.  ( Permit  me  to  fiy  with  j^ou  from 
this  tasteless  tranquillity,  which  will  yet 
grow  more  loathsome  when  you  have  left 
me.  ) You  may  deny  me  to  accompany  you, 
but  cannot  hinder  me  from  following.” 

The  prince,  who  loved  Nekayah  above  his 
other  sisters,  had  no  inclination  to  refuse 
her  request,  and  grieved  that  he  had  lost  an 
opportunity  of  showing  his  confidence  by  a 
voluntary  communication.  It  was  therefore 
agreed  that  she  should  leave  the  valley  with 
them:  and  that,  in  the  mean  time,  she 
should  watch  lest  any  other  straggler  should, 
by  chance  or  curiosity,  follow  them  to  the 
mountain. 

At  length  their  labor  was  at  an  end : they 
saw  light  beyond  the  prominence,  and,  issu- 
ing to  the  top  of  the  mountain,  beheld 
the  Nile,  yet  a narrow  current,  wandering 
beneath  them. 

The  prince  looked  round  with  rapture, 


74 


BASSLLAS, 


anticipated  all  the  pleasure  of  travel,  and  in 
thought  was  already  transported  beyond  his 
father’s  dominions.  Imlac,  though  very 
joyful  at  his  escape,  had  less  expectation  of 
pleasure  in  the  world,  which  he  had  before 
dried,  and  of  which  he  had  been  weary. 

\ Rasselas  was  so  much  delighted  with  a 
'OTder  horizon  that  he  could  not  soon  be  per- 
suaded to  return  into  the  valley.  He  in- 
formed his  sister  that  the  way  was  open^ 
and  that  nothing  now  remained  but  to 
prepare  for  thei^:  departure. 


76 


CHAPTER  xy. 

The  Prince  and  Princess  leave  the  Valley,  and  see 
many  Wonders. 

The  prince  «and  princess  had  jeweP  suf- 
ficient to  make  them  rich  whenevei*  they 
came  into  a place  of  commerce,  which,  by 
Imlac’s  direction,  they  might  hide  in  their 
clothes ; and,  on  the  night  of  the  next  full 
moon,  all  left  the  valley.  The  princess  was 
followed  only  by  a single  favorite,  who  did 
not  know  whither  she  was  going. 

They  clambered  through  the  cavity,  and 
began  to  go  down  on  the  other  side.  The 
princess  and  her  maid  turned  their  eyes 
towards  every  part,  and,  seeing  nothing  to 
bound  their  prospect,  considered  themselves 
as  in  danger  of  being  lost  in  a dreary  vacuity. 
They  stopped  and  trembled.  ‘‘I  am  almost 
afraid,”  said  the  princess,  “to  begin  a jour- 
ney of  which  I cannot  perceive  an  end,  and 
to  venture  into  this  immense  plain,  where 


76 


BASSELAS. 


I may  be  approached  on  every  side  by  men 
whom  I never  saw.”  The  prince  felt  nearly 
the  same  emotions,  though  he  thought  it 
more  manly  to  conceal  them. 

Imlac  smiled  at  their  terrors,  and  en- 
couraged them  to  proceed : but  the  prmcess 
continued  irresolute  till  she  had  been  im- 
perceptibly drawn  forward  too  far  to  return. 

In  the  morning  they  found  some  shepherds 
in  the  field,  who  set  milk  and  fruits  before 
them.  The  princess  wondered  that  she  did 
not  see  a palace  ready  for  her  reception,  and 
a table  spread  with  delicacies;  but,  being 
faint  and  hungry,  she  drank  the  milk  and 
ate  the  fruits,  and  thought  them  of  a higher 
flavor  than  the  products  of  the  valley. 

They  traveled  forward  by  easy  journeys, 
being  all  unaccustomed  to  toil  or  difficulty, 
and  knowing  that,  though  they  might  be 
missed,  they  could  not  be  pursued.  In  a 
few  days  they  came  into  a more  populous 
region,  where  Imlac  was  diverted  wich  the 
admiration  which  his  companions  expressed 
at  the  diversity  of  manners,  stations,  and 
€m'f)loyments. 

Their  dress  was  such  as  might  not  bring 
nnon  them  the  suspicion  of  having  anything 


BASSJEJLAS, 


to  conceal;  yet  the  prince,  where\v>r  he 
came,  expected  to  be  obeyed,  and  the  prin- 
cess was  frighted  because  those  that  came 
into  her  presence  did  not  prostrate  them- 
selves before  her.  Imlac  was  forced  to  < 
observe  them  with  great  vigilance,  lest  they  j 
should  betray  their  rank  by  their  unusual 
behavior,  and  detained  them  several  weeks 
in  the  first  village,  to  accustom  them  to  the  i 
sight  of  common  mortals. 

By  degrees  the  royal  wanderers  were 
taught  to  understand  that  they  had  for  a 
time  laid  aside  their  dignity,  and  were  to 
expect  only  such  regard  as  liberality  and 
courtesy  could  procure.  And  Imlac,  having, 
by  many  admonitions,  prepared  them  to 
endure  the  tumults  of  a port,  and  the 
ruggedness  of  the  commercial  race,  brought 
them  down  to  the  sea-coast. 

The  prince  and  his  sister,  to  whom  every- 
thing was  new,  were  gratified  equally  at  all 
places,  and  therefore  remained  for  some 
months  at  the  port  without  any  inclination 
to  pass  further.  Imlac  was  content  with 
their  stay,  because  he  did  not  think  it  safe 
to  expose  them,  unpracticed  in  the  world, 
to  the  hazards  of  a foreign  country. 


78 


BASSELAS. 


At  last  he  began  to  fear  lest  they  should 
be  discovered,  and  proposed  to  fix  a day  for 
their  departure.  They  had  no  pretensions 
to  judge  for  themselyes,  and  referred  the 
whole  scheme  to  his  direction.  He  there- 
fore took  passage  in  a ship  to  Suez ; and, 
when  the  time  came,  with  great  difBiculty 
prevailed  on  the  princess  to  enter  the  vesseL 
They  had  a quick  and  prosperous  voyage; 
and  from  Suez  traveled  by  hmd  to  Cau'ow 


BASS  EL  AS. 


79 


CHAPTER  XVL 

rhey  enter  Cairo,  and  find  every  Man  happy. 

As  they  approached  the  city,  which  filled 
the  strangers  with  astonishment,  ‘‘This,” 
said  Imlac  to  the  prince,  “ is  the  place  where 
travelers  and  merchants  assemble  from  all 
the  corners  of  the  earth.  You  will  here  find 
men  of  every  character,  and  every  occupa- 
tion. Commerce  is  here  honorable : I will 
act  as  a merchant  who  has  no  other  end  of 
travel  than  curiosity;  it  will  soon  be  ob- 
served that  we  are  rich ; our  reputation 
will  procure  us  access  to  all  whom  we  shall 
desire  to  know  ; you  will  see  all  the  condi- 
tions of  humanity,  and  enable  yourself  at 
leisure  to  make  your  choice  of  lifer 

They  now  entered  the  town,  stunned  by 
the  noise  and  offended  by  the  crowds.  In- 
struction had  not  yet  so  prevailed  over 
habit,  but  that  they  wondered  to  see  them- 
selves pass  undistinguished  along  the  street, 
and  met  by  the  lowest  of  the  people  without 
reverence  or  notice.  The  princess  could 


80 


BASSELAS. 


not  at  first  bear  the  thought  of  being  leveled 
with  the  vulgar,  and  for  some  days  con- 
tinued in  her  chamber,  where  she  was  served 
by  her  favorite  Pekuah  as  in  the  palace  of 
the  valley. 

Imlac,  who  understood  trafiic,  sold  part 
of  the  jewels  the  next  day,  and  hired  a 
house,  which  he  adorned  with  such  magnifi- 
cence, that  he  was  immediately  considered 
as  a merchant  of  great  wealth.  Ills  polite- 
ness attracted  many  acquaintances,  and  his 
generosity  made  him  courted  by  many  de- 
pendents. His  table  v/as  crowded  by  men 
of  every  nation,  who  all  admired  his  knowl- 
edge, and  solicited  his  favor.  Ills  compan- 
ions, not  being  able  to  mix  in  the  conver- 
jsation,  could  make  no  discovery  of  their 
ignorance  or  surprise,  and  were  gradually 
initiated  in  the  world  as  they  gained  knowl- 
edge of  the  language. 

The  prince  had,  by  frequent  lectures,  been 
taught  the  use  and  nature  of  money ; but 
the  ladies  could  not  for  a long  time  compre- 
hend what  the  merchants  did  with  small 
pieces  of  gold  and  silver,  or  why  things  of 
so  little  use  should  be  received  as  equiv^ent 
to  the  necessaries  of  life. 


EASSELAS. 


81 


They  studied  the  language  two  years, 
while  Imlac  was  preparing  to  set  before 
them  the  various  ranks  and  conditions  of 
mankind.  He  grew  acquainted  with  all  who 
had  anything  uncommon  in  their  fortune  or 
conduct.  He  frequented  the  voluptuous 
and  the  frugal,  the  idle  and  the  busy,  the 
merchants  and  the  men  of  learning. 

The  prince  being  now  able  to  converse 
with  fluency,  and  having  learned  the  cau- 
tion necessary  to  be  observed  in  his  inter- 
course with  strangers,  began  to  accompany 
Imlac  to  places  of  resort,  and  to  enter  into 
all  assemblies,  that  he  might  make  his  choice 
of  life. 

For  some  time  he  thought  choice  need- 
less, because  all  appeared  to  him  equally 
happy.  Wherever  he  went  he  met  gayety 
and  kindness,  and  heard  the  song  of  joy 
or  the  laughter  of  carelessness.  He  began 
to  believe  that  the  world  overflowed  with 
universal  plenty,  and  that  nothing  was 
withheld  either  from  want  or  merit ; that 
every  hand  showered  liberality,  and  every 
heart  melted  with  benevolence ; and  who 
then,’’  says  he,  ‘‘will  be  suffered  to  be 
wretched  ? 


82 


BASSELAS. 


Imlac  permitted  the  pleasing  delusion,  and 
was  unwilling  to  crush  the  hope  of  inex- 
perience, till  one  day,  having  sat  awhile 
silent,  “I  know  not,”  said  the  prince, 
,‘‘what  can  be  the  reason  that  I am  more 
[imhappy  than  any  of  our  friends.  I see 
them  perpetually  and  unalterably  cheerful, 
but  feel  my  own  mind  restless  and  uneasy. 
I am  unsatisfied  with  thor.3  pleasures  which 
I seem  most  to  court.  I live  in  the  crowds 
of  jollity,  not  so  much  to  enjoy  company  as 
to  shun  myself,  and  am  only  loud  and  merry 
to  conceal  my  sadness.” 

Every  man,”  said  Imlac,  ‘^.may^y 
exaSl ni s own  mind  guess  what  passes 
in  the  minds  ofotEers  : wh^n  you  feel  that 
ymir  own  gayety  is  counterfeit,  it  hiay 
justly  lead  you  to'^uspecETEat  of  your  com- 
panions notJto^e~^cere:  Envyrl^ 
jjmoiily  reciprocal.  We  are  long ' before  we 
^^e  coifyinci^  that  happiness  is  never  to 
t N.  be  bflifyes  it  possessed  by 

o^ers  to  keep  alive  the  hope  of  obtainii^ 
^ it  for  himselfi  In  the  assembly  where  you 
*'  ^ passed  the  last  night,  there  appeared  such 
sprightliness  of  air  and  volatility  of  fancy 
as  might  have  suited  beings^  of  a highei 


r.ASSELAS, 


83 


order,  formed  to  inhabit  serener  regions 
inaccessible  to  care  or  sorrow ; yet  believe 
me,  prince,  there  was  not  one  who  did  not 
dread  the  moment  when  solitude  shoidd 
deliver  him  to  the  tyranny  of  reflection/*  / 

“ This,”  said  the  prince,  “may  be  true  \| 
of  others,  since  it  is  true  of  me ; yet  what-  > j 
over  be  the  general  infelicity  of  man,  one 
condition  is  more  happy  than  another,  and  . ^ 
wisdom-ourely-^-dkoets  m the  least  4^ 

evil  in  the  choice  of  UfeP  ^ 

“ The  causes  of  good  and  evil,”  answered 
Tmlac,  ^^are  so  various  and  uncertain,  so 
often  entangled  with  each  other,  so  diversh 

fled  by  various  relations,  and  so  much  sub- 
to  accidents  which  cannot  be  foreseen^ 

that  he  who  would  fix  his  condition  upon 
mcontestible  reasons  of  preference  must 

^and  die  inquiring  and  deliberating.’^ 

^^^ut,  surely,^’  said  Kasselas,  ‘‘the  wist? 
men,  to  whom  we  listen  with  reverence  and 
wonder,  chose  that  mode  of  life  for  them- 
selves which  they  thought  most  likely  to 
make  them  happy.” 

“Very  few,”  said  the  noef  ^ 

Every  man  is  placed  in  his  present  condi- 
tion by  causes  which  acted  without  his  fore- 


84 


RASSELAS. 


sight,  and  with  which  he  did  not  always 
willingly  co-operate ; and  therefore  you  will 
rarely  meet  one  who  does  not  think  the  lot 
of  his  neighbor  better  than  his  own.” 

“ T am  pleased  to  think,”  said  the  prince, 
“ that  my  birth  has  given  me  at  least  one 
advantage  over  others,  by  enabling  me  to 
determine  for  myself.  I have  here  the  world 
before  me  ; I will  review  it  at  leisure  ; surely 
happiness  is  somewhere  to  be  found,” 


BASSELAS. 


85 


CHAPTER  XVn. 

The  Prince  associates  with  Young  Hen  o'  Spirit 
and  Gayety. 

Rasselas  rose  next  day,  and  resolved  tc> 
begin  his  experiments  upon  life.  ‘‘  Youth,’’ 
cried  he,  is  the  time  of  gladness : I will 
join  myself  to  the  young  men,  whose  only 
business  is  to  gratify  their  desires,  and 
whose  time  is  all  spent  in  a succession  of 
enjoyments.” 

To  such  societies  he  was  readily  admit- 
ted ; but  a few  days  brought  him  back 
weary  and  disgusted.  Their  mirth  was 
without  images ; their  laughter  without 
motive;  their  pleasures  were  gross  and 
sensual,  in  which  the  mind  had  no  part; 
their  conduct  was  at  once  wild  and  mean ; 
they  laughed  at  order  and  law:  but  the 
frown  of  wwer  dejected,  and  the  eye  of 
wisdom  abashed  them. 

The  prince  soon  concluded  that  he  should 
never  be  happy  in  a course  of  life  of  which 


86 


BASSLLAS, 


•he  was  ashamed.  He  thought  it  unsuitable 
to  a reasonable  being  to  act  without  a plan^ 
and  to  be  sad  or  cheerful  only  by  chance. 

^ppiness,”  said  he,  “ must  be  something 
ejolid  and  permanent,  without  fear  ancTvTith- 

^out  uncertainty!^^  — 

But  his  young  companions  had  gained  so 
much  of  his  regard  by  their  frankness  and 
courtesy  that  he  could  not  leave  them  with- 
out warning  and  remonstrance.  My 
friends,”  said  he,  “ I have  seriously  consid- 
ered our  manners  and  our  prospects,  and 
find  that  we  have  mistaken  our  own  interest. 
The  first  years  of  man  must  make  provision 
for  the  last.  He  that  never  thinks  never 
can  be  wise.  Perpetual  levity  must  end 
in  ignorance ; and  intemperance,  though  it 
may  fire  the  spirits  for  an  hour,  will  make 
life  short  or  miserable.  Let  us  consider  that 
youth  is  of  no  long  duration,  and  that  in 
maturer  age,  when  the  enchantments  of 
fancy  shall  cease,  and  phantoms  of  delight 
dance  no  more  about  us,  we  shall  have  no 
comforts  but  the  esteem  of  wise  men,  and  the 
means  of  doing  good.  Let  us,  therefore, 
stop  while  to  stop  is  in  our  power : let  us 
live  as  men  who  are  some  time  to  grow  old. 


BASSELAS, 


and  to  whom  it  will  be  the  most  dreadful  of 
all  e\ils  not  to  count  their  past  years  by 
follies,  iind  to  be  reminded  of  their  former 
luxuriance  of  health  only  by  the  maladies 
wiiich  riot  has  produced.” 

They  stared  awhile  in  silence  one  upon 
another,  and  at  last  drove  him  away  by  a 
general  chorus  of  continued  laughter. 

The  consciousness  that  his  sentiments 
were  just,  and  his  intentions  kind,  was 
scarcely  sufficient  to  support  him  against 
the  horror  of  derision.  But  he  recovered 
liis  tranquillity  and  pursued  his  search. 


8 


BAS8ELA8. 


CHAPTER  XVIIL 

The  Prince  finds  a Wise  and  Happy  Man. 

As  he  was  one  day  walking  in  the  street, 
he  saw  a spacious  building,  which  all  were,  by 
the  open  doors,  invited  to  enter  ; he  followed 
the  stream  of  people  and  found  it  a hall  or 
school  of  declamation,  in  which  professors 
read  lectures  to  their  auditory.  He  fixed 
his  eye  upon  a sage  raised  above  the  rest, 
who  discoursed  with  great  energy  on  the 
government  of  the  passions.  Ilis  look 
was  venerable,  his  action  graceful,  his 
pronunciation  clear,  and  his  diction  elegant. 
He  showed,  with  great  strength  of  senti- 
ment and  variety  of  illustration,  that  hu- 
man nature  is  degraded  and  debased  when 
the  lower  faculties  predominate  over  the 
higher ; that  when  fancy,  the  parent  of  pas- 
sion, usurps  the  dominion  of  the  mind,  noth- 
ing ensues  but  the  natural  effect  of  unlaw- 
ful government,  perturbation,  and  confusion ; 


BASSELAS. 


89 


that  she  betrays  the  fortresses  of  the  intel- 
lect to  rebels,  ard  excites  her  children  to 
sedition  against  reason,  their  lawful  sover- 
eign. He  compared  reason  to  the  sun,  of 
which  the  light  is  constant,  uniform,  and 
lasting ; and  fancy  to  a meteor,  of  bright  but 
transitory  luster,  irregular  in  its  motion, 
and  delusive  in  its  direction. 

He  then  communicated  the  various  pre- 
cepts given  from  time  to  time  for  the  con- 
quest of  passion,  and  displayed  the  happi- 
ness of  those  who  had  obtained  the  important 
victory,  after  which  man  is  no  longer  the 
slave  of  fear,  nor  the  fool  of  hope;  is  no 
more  emaciated  by  envy,  inflamed  by  anger, 
emasculated  by  tenderness,  or  depressed  by 
grief ; but  walks  on  calmly  through  the 
tumults  or  privacies  of  life,  as  the  sun  pur- 
sues alike  his  course  through  the  calm  or 
the  stormy  sky. 

He  enumerated  many  examples  of  heroes 
immovable  by  pain  or  pleasure,  who  looked 
with  indifference  on  those  modes  or  acci- 
dents to  which  the  vulgar  give  the  names 
of  good  and  evil.  He  exhorted  his  hearers 
to  lay  aside  their  prejudices,  and  arm  them- 
selves against  the  shafts  of  malice  or  mis- 


90 


hassel/is. 


fortune,  by  invulnerable  patience ; conclud- 
ing, that  this  state  only  was  happiness,  and 
that  this  happiness  was  in  every  one’s 
power. 

Rasselas  listened  to  him  with  the  venera- 
tion due  to  the  instructions  of  a superior 
being;  and,  waiting  for  him  at  the  door, 
humbly  implored  the  liberty  of  visiting  so 
great  a master  of  true  wisdom.  The  lec- 
turer hesitated  a moment,  when  Rasselas 
put  a purse  of  gold  into  his  hand,  which  he 
received  with  a mixture  of  joy  and  wonder. 

I have  found,”  said  the  prince,  at  his 
return  to  Imlac,  “ a man  who  can  teach  all 
that  is  necessary  to  be  known,  who,  from 
the  unshaken  throne  of  rational  fortitude, 
looks  down  on  the  scenes  of  life  changing 
beneath  him.  He  speaks,  and  attention 
watches  his  lips.  He  reasons,  and  convic- 
tion closes  his  periods.  This  man  shall  be 
Iny  future  guide  : I will  learn  his  doctrines 
and  imitate  his  life.” 

“ Be  not  too  hasty,”  said  Imlac,  to  trust, 
or  to  admire,  the  teachers  of  morality  ; they 
discourse  lilie  angels,  but  they  live  like 
men.” 

Rasselas,  who  could  not  conceive  how 


RASSELAS. 


91 


any  man  could  reason  so  forcibly  without 
feeling  the  cogency  of  his  own  arguments, 
paid  his  visit  in  a few  days,  and  was  denied 
admission.  He  had  now  learned  the  power 
of  rooney,  and  made  his  way  by  a piece  of 
gold  to  the  inner  apartment,  where  he  found 
the  philosopher  in  a room  half  darkened, 
with  his  eyes  misty,  and  his  face  pale. 

‘‘  Sir,”  said  he,  ‘‘  you  are  come  at  a time 
when  all  human  friendship  is  useless  ; what 
I suffer  cannot  be  remedied,  what  I have 
lost  cannot  be  supplied.  My  daughter,  my 
only  daughter,  from  whose  tenderness  I 
expected  all  the  comforts  of  my  age,  died 
last  night  of  a fever.  My  views,  my  pur- 
poses, my  hopes  are  at  an  end : I am  now  a 
lonely  being  disunited  from  society.”  \ 
Sir,”  said  the  nrince,  “ mortality  is  an  \ 
event  by  whic]>-ar~wise  -man  can  never  be  \ 

surprised : we  know,^at  deathJ:S  always  Vi 

near,  and  therefore  always  be  J 

expected?’  ' ^ ^ 

^HToung  man,”  answered  the  philosopher, 

‘‘  you  speak  like  one  that  has  never  felt  the 
pangs  of  separation.” 

‘‘Have  you  then  forgot  the  precepts,”  said 
Rasselas,  which  you  so  powerfully  en- 


92 


BASSELAS. 


forced  ? |Has  wisdom  no  strength  to  arm 
the  heart  against  calamity f Consider  that 
external  things  are  naturally  variable,  but 
truth  and  reason  are  always  the  same.” 

“ What  comfort,”  said  the  mourner,  ‘‘  can 
truth  and  reason  afford  me  ? of  what  effect 
are  they  now,  but  to  tell  me,  that  my 
daughter  will  not  be  restored?” 

The  prince,  whose  humanity  would  not 
suffer  him  to  insult  misery  with  reproof, 
went  away  convinced  of  the  emptiness  of 
rhetorical  sound,  and  the  inefScacy  of  pol- 
Shed  periods  andTs^udied  sentences. 


BASSELAS 


93 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

A Glimpse  of  Pastoral  Life. 

He  was  still  eager  upon  the  same  inquiry ; 
and  having  heard  of  a hermit  that  lived  near 
..^the  lowest  cataract  of  the  Nile,  and  filled 
the  whole  country  with  the  fame  of  his 
sanctity,  resolved  to  visit  his  retreat,  and 
inquire  whether  that  felicity,  which  public 
life  could  not  afford,  was  to  be  found  in 
solitude ; and  whether  a man  whose  age  and 
virtue  made  him  venerable,  could  teach  any 
peculiar  art  of  shunning  evils  or  enduring 
them  ? 

Imlac  and  the  princess  agreed  to  accom- 
pany him ; and,  after  the  necessary  prepara- 
tions, they  began  their  journey.  Their  way 
lay  through  the  fields,  where  shepherds 
tended  their  flocks,  and  the  lambs  were 
playing  upon  the  pasture.  ‘^This,”  said 
the  poet,  ‘‘is  the  life  which  has  been  often 
celebrated  for  its  innocence  and  quiet ; let 


04 


BASSELAS. 


US  pass  the  heat  of  the  day  among  the  shep- 
herds’  tents,  and  know  ^^liether  all  our 
searches  are  not  to  terminate  in  pastoral 
simplicity.” 

The  proposal  pleased  them,  and  they  in- 
duced the  shepherds,  by  small  presents,  and 
familiar  questions,  to  tell  their  opinion  of 
their  own  state;  they  were  so  rude  and 
ignorant,  so  little  able  to  compare  the  good 
with  the  evil  of  the  occupation,  and  so  in- 
distinct in  their  narratives  and  descriptions, 
that  very  little  could  be  learned  from  them* 
But  it  was  evident  that  their  hearts  were 
cankered  with  discontent;  that  they  con- 
sidered themselves  as  condemned  to  labor 
for  the  luxury  of  the  rich,  and  looked  up 
with  stupid  malevolence  toward  those  that 
were  placed  above  them. 

The  princess  pronounced  with  vehemence, 
that  she  would  never  suffer  these  envious 
savages  to  be  her  companions,  and  that  she 
should  not  soon  be  desirous  of  seeing  any 
more  specimens  of  rustic  happiness;  but 
could  not  believe  that  ail  the  accounts  of 
primeval  pleasures  were  fabulous ; and  w^as 
yet  in  doubt,  whether  life  had  anything  that 
could  be  justly  preferred  to  the  placid  grat- 


BASSELAS, 


95 


ificaiions  of  fields  and  woods.  She  hopea 
that  the  time  would  come,  when,  with  a few 
virtuous  and  elegant  companions,  she  should 
gather  flo.wers  planted  by  her  own  hand, 
fondle  the  lambs  of  her  own  ewe,  and  listen, 
without  care,  among  brooks  and  breezes,  to 
one  of  her  maidens  reading  in  the  shade. 


li^JSSELAS. 


dQ 


CHAPTER  XX. 

The  Danger  of  Prosperity. 

On  the  next  day  they  continued  their 
journey,  till  the  heat  compelled  them  to  look 
round  for  shelter.  At  a small  distance  they 
saw  a thick  wood,  which  they  no  sooner  en- 
tered than  they  perceived  that  they  were 
approaching  the  habitations  of  men.  The 
shrubs  were  diligently  cut  away  to  open 
walks  where  the  shades  were  darkest : the 
boughs  of  opposite  trees  Avere  artificially 
interAvoven;  seats  of  flowery  turf  were 
raised  in  vacant  spaces : and  a riAOilct  that 
Avantoned  along  the  side  of  a winding  path, 
had  its  banks  sometimes  opened  into  small 
basins,  and  its  stream  sometimes  obstructed 
by  little  mounds  of  stone  heaped  together 
to  increase  its  murmurs. 

They  passed  slowly  through  the  wood, 
delighted  with  such  iinexpected  accommo- 
dations, and  entertained  each  other  with 


RASSELAS. 


conjecturing  what,  or  who  he  could  h 
in  those  rude  and  unfrequented  regie  ^ 
leisure  and  art  for  such  harmless  luxury. 

As  they  advanced,  they  heard  the  sound 
of  music,  and  saw  youths  and  virgins  danc- 
ing in  the  grove;  and,  going  still  further, 
beheld  a stately  palace  built  upon  a hill  sur- 
rounded with  woods.  The  laws  of  eastern 
hospitality  allowed  them  to  enter,  and  the 
master  welcomed  them  like  a man  liberal 
and  wealthy. 

He  was  skillful  enough  in  appearances 
soon  to  discern  that  they  were  no  common 
guests,  and  spread  his  table  with 
eence.  The  eloquence  of  Imlae  caught  his 
attention,  and  the  lofty  courtesy  i.M 
princess  excited  his  respect.  Whei^ 
offered  to  depart  he  entreated  their  stay, 
and  was  the  next  day  still  more  unwilling 
to  dismiss  them  than  before.  They  were 
easily  persuaded  to  stop,  and  civility  grev/ 
up  in  time  to  freedom  and  confidence. 

The  prince  now  saw  all  the  domestics 
cheerful,  and  all  the  face  of  nature  smiling 
round  the  place,  and  could  not  forbear  to 
hope  he  should  find  here  what  he  was  seek- 
ing; but  when  he  was  congratulating  tha 


98 


hasselas. 


master  upon  his  possessions,  he  answered 
with  a sigh,  ‘‘JMy  condition  has  indeed  the 
appearance  of  happiness,  but  appearances 
are  delusive.  My  prosperity  puts  my  life 
in  danger ; the  Bassa  of  Egypt  is  my  enemy, 
incensed  only  by  my  wealth  and  popularity. 
I have  hitherto  been  protected  against  him 
by  the  princes  of  the  country;  but  as  the 
favor  of  the  great  is  uncertain,  I know  not 
how  soon  my  defenders  may  be  persuaded 
to  share  the  plunder  with  the  Bassa.  I have 
sent  my  treasures  into  a distant  country, 
and,  upon  the  first  alarm,  am  prepared  to 
follow  them.  Then  will  my  enemies  riot  in 
my  mansion,  and  enjoy  the  gardens  v/hich 
I have  planted.” 

They  all  joined  in  lamenting  his  danger, 
and  deprecating  his  exile ; and  the  princess 
was  so  much  disturbed  with  the  tumult  of 
grief  and  indignation  that  she  retired  to 
her  apartment. 

They  continued  with  their  kind  inviter  a 
few  days  longer,  and  then  went  forward  to 
find  the  hermit. 


BASJSELAS.' 


99 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

The  Happiness  of  Solitude.  The  Hermit’s  History. 

They  came  on  the  third  day,  by  the  direc- 
tion of  the  peasants,  to  the  hermit’s  cell : it 
was  a cavern  in  the  side  of  a mountain  over- 
shadowed with  palm  trees ; at  such  a dis- 
tance from  the  cataract  that  notiiing  more 
was  heard  than  a gentle  uniform  murmur, 
such  as  composed  the  mind  to  pensive  medi- 
tation, especially  when  it  was  assisted  by 
the  wind  whistling  among  the  branches. 
The  first  rude  essay  of  nature  had  been  so 
much  improved  by  human  labor  that  the 
cave  contained  several  apartments  appropri- 
ated to  different  uses,  and  often  afforded 
lodging  to  travelers,  whom  darkness  or 
tempests  happened  to  overtake. 

The  hermit  sat  on  a bench  at  the  door  to 
enjoy  the  coolness  of  the  evening.  On  one 
side  lay  a book  with  pens  and  papers,  on  the 
other,  mechanical  instruments  of  varioua 
kinds.  As  they  approached  him  unregarded. 


100 


BASSELAS, 


the  princess  observed  that  he  had  not  the 
countenance  of  a man  that  had  found,  or 
could  teach  the  way  to  happiness. 

They  saluted  him  with  great  respect,  which 
he  repaid  like  a man  not  unaccustomed  to 
the  forms  of  courts.  “My  children,”  said 
he,  “ if  you  have  lost  your  way,  you  shall  be 
willingly  supplied  with  such  conveniences 
for  the  night  as  this  cavern  will  afford.  I 
have  all  that  nature  requires,  and  you  will 
not  expect  delicacies  in  a hermit’s  cell.” 

They  thanked  him ; and,  entering,  were 
pleased  with  the  neatness  and  regularity  of 
the  place.  The  hermit  set  flesh  and  wine 
before  them,  though  he  fed  only  upon  fruits 
and  water.  His  discourse  was  cheerful  with- 
out levity,  and  pious  without  enthusiasm. 
He  soon  gained  the  esteem  of  his  guests,  and 
the  princess  repented  of  her  hasty  censure. 

At  last  Imlac  began  thus  : “ I do  not  now 
wonder  that  your  reputation  is  so  far  ex- 
tended: we  have  heard  at  Cairo  of  your 
wisdom,  and  came  hither  to  implore  your 
direction  for  this  young  man  and  maiden 
in  the  choice  oflifeP 

“ To  him  that  lives  well,”  answered  the 
ermit,  “ every  form  of  life  is  good  ; nor  can 


BASSELASo  . “A 

I give . any  other  rule  for  choice  than  to  re- 
move from  all  apparent  evil.” 

He  will  remove  most  certainly  from  evil,” 
said  the  prince,  “ who  shall  devote  himself 
to  that  solitude  which  you  have  recom- 
mended by  your  example.” 

“I  have  indeed  lived  fifteen  years  in 
solitude,”  said  the  hermit,  ‘‘but  have  no  de- 
sire that  my  example  should  gain  any  im- 
itators. In  my  youth  I professed  arms,  and 
was  raised  by  degrees  to  the  highest  mili- 
tary rank.  I have  traversed  Avide  countries 
at  the  head  of  my  troops,  and  seen  many 
battles  and  sieges.  At  last,  being  disgusted 
by  the  preferments  of  a younger  ofiicer,  and 
feeling  that  my  vigor  was  beginning  to  decay, 

I resolved  to  close  my  life  in  peace,  having 
found  the  world  full  of  snares,  discord,  and 
misery.  I had  once  escaped  from  the  pur- 
suit of  the  enemy  by  the  shelter  of  this 
cavern,  and  therefore  chose  it  for  my  final 
residence.  I employed  artificers  to  form  it 
into  chambers,  and  stored  it  with  all  that 
1 was  likely  to  want. 

“ For  some  time  after  my  retreat,  I re- 
joiced like  a tempest-beaten  sailor  at  his  en- 
trance into  the  harbor,  being  delighted  with 


102 


KASSEL  AS. 


the  sudden  change  of  the  noise  and  hurry 
of  war  to  stillness  and  rei^ose.  When  the 
pleasures  of  novelty  went  away,  I employed 
my  hours  in  examining  the  plants  which  grew 
In  the  valley,  and  the  minerals  which  I coU 
lected  from  the  rocks.  But  that  inquiry  is 
now  grown  tasteless  and  irksome.  I have 
been  for  some  time  unsettled  and  distracted: 
my  mind  is  disturbed  with  a thousand  per- 
plexitics  of  doubt,  and  vanities  of  imagina- 
tion, v/hich  hourly  prevail  upon  me,  because 
I have  no  opportunities  of  relaxation  or 
diversion.  I am  sometimes  ashamed  to 
think  that  I could  not  secure  myself  from 
vice,  but  by  retiring  from  the  exercise  of 
virtue,  and  begin  to  suspect  that  I Avas  rather 
impelled  by  resentment  than  led  by  devotion 
Into  solitude.  My  fancy  riots  in  scenes  of 
folly,  and  I lament  that  I have  lost  so  much, 
and  have  gained  so  little.  In  solitude,  if  I 
escape  the  example  of  bad  men,  I want  like- 
wise the  counsel  and  conversation  of  the 
good.  I have  been  long  comparing  the  evils 
with  the  advantages  of  society,  and  resolve 
to  return  into  the  world  to-morrow.  The 
life  of  a solitary  man  will  be  certainly  mis- 
erable, but  not  certainly  devout.” 


hasselas. 


103 


They  lie^ird  his  resolution  with  surpnise, 
but  after  a short  pause  offered  to  conduct 
him  to  Cairo.  He  dug  up  a considerable 
treasure  which  he  had  hid  among  the  rocks, 
and  accompanied  them  to  the  city,  on  which, 
as  he  approached  it,  he  gazed  with  rapture. 


104 


BASSELAS. 


CHAPTER  XXIL 

The  Happiness  of  a Life  led  according  to  KaturCo 

Rasselas  went  often  to  an  assembly  of 
learned..^ninn,  who  met  at  stated  times  to 
unbend  their  minds,  and  compare  their 
opinions.  Their  manners  were  somewhat 
coarse,  but  their  conversation  was  instruc- 
tive, and  their  disputations  acute,  though 
sometimes  too  violent,  and  often  continued 
till  neither  controvertist  remembered  upon 
what  question  they  began.  Some  faults 
were  almost  general  among  them  : every  one 
was  Tlesirous  to  dictate  Lo  the  TC^tr^and 

every  one  was  pleased  to  hear  the  genius  or 
knowledge  of  another  depreciatecb  ' 

In  this  assembly  Rasselas  was  relating 
his  interview  with  the  hermit,  and  the  v/on- 
der  with  which  he  heard  him  censure  a 
course  of  life  which  he  had  so  deliberately 
chosen,  and  so  laudably  followed.  The  sen- 
timents of  the  hearers  were  various.  Some 
were  of  opinion  that  the  folly  of  his  choice 


BASSELAS, 


105 


had  been  justly  punished  by  condemnation 
to  perpetual  perseverance.  One  of  the 
youngest  among  them,  with  great  vehe- 
mence, pronounced  him  a hypocrite.  Some 
talked  of  the  right  of  society  to  the  labor 
of  individuals,  and  considered  retirement 
as  a desertion  from  duty.  Others  readily 
allowed,  that  there  was  a time  when  the 
claims  of  the  public  were  satisfied,  and  when 
a man  might  properly  sequester  himself  to 
review  his  life  and  purify  his  heart. 

One,  who  appeared  more  affected  with 
the  narrative  than  the  rest,  thought  it  likely 
that  the  hermit  would,  in  a few  years,  go 
back  to  his  retreat,  and  perhaps,  if  shame 
did  not  restrain,  or  death  intercept  him, 
return  once  more  from  his  retreat  into  the 
world  c the  hope  of  happiness,”  said  he^ 

is  so  strongly^  m that"llj^ langeat\  . 

exp^ience  is  not  able  to  efface  ig^.,^t_the  ^ 
p^sent  st^g^  \viiat,ever  it  be,3yiieeirand’ 
are  forced  to  confess,  the  misery;  yet,  when 
the  same  state  is  again  at  a distance,  imagiUr 

ation,  paints  it  as  desirable.  J>nt  tlia  time 
will  surely, -come,  when  desire  will  be  no 
longer  onr  tnrmenf,or^  n.nd  no  maiT^shairtTe 
wretched  but  by  his  own  fault,”  * 


106 


BASSELAS. 


**  This,”  said  a philosopher,  who  had  heard 
him  with  tokens  of  great  impatience,  “ is  the 
present  condition  of  a \^se  man.  The  time 
is  already  come  when  none  are  wretched  but 
by  their  own  fault.  N^tMn^  Js  more  idle 
than  to  inquire  after  happiness,  which  nature 
has  kindly  placed  within  our  reach.  The 
way  to  be  happy  is  to  live  according  to 
^ Sature,  in  obedience  to  that  universal  and  . 
4,  .unIilDerai)ie  law  with  AYhicIi  every  he^  is 
' I j originally  impressed ; which  is  not  wnttto 
on  it  by  prcTceptTT^ut  engi^enTy*7testt^ 
r^not  instilled  by  education,  but  infused  at 


our  nativity, 
nature 


lie  that  li  ve£  "agcordm^  to 
iGCfrom  tlTecTelusiohs 


V of  hope,  or  importunities  of  desireTTiFwill 
^receive  and  reject  with  equabilTEy  of  tern* 
^ ^ per ; and  act  or  suffer  as  the  reason  of  thmgs 
shall  alternately  prescribe.  Other  men  may 
amuse  themselves  with  subtle  definitions, 
or  intricate  ratiocinations.  Let  them  learn 
to  be  wise  by  easier  means : let  them  observe 
the  hind  of  the  forest,  and  the  linnet  of  tke 
grove:  let  them  consider  the  life  of  animals 
whose  motions  are  regulated  by  instinct; 
they  obey  their  guide,  and  are  happy.  Let 
us  therefore,  at  length,  cease  to  dispute,  and 


BASSELAS. 


107 


leam  to  Kye ; throw  away  the  incumbranoe 
of  precepts,  which  they  who  utter  them  with 
BO  much  pride  and  pomp  do  not  understand, 
and  carry  with  us  this  simple  and  intelli- 
gible maxim,  Tfeat  deviation  from  nature  is 
deviation  from  h^piness.”  ~ " 

When  he  had  spoken,  he  looked  round  him 
with  a placid  air,  and  enjoyed  the  conscious- 
ness of  his  own  beneficence.  ‘‘Sir,”  said 
the  prince,  with  great  modesty,  “ as  I,  like 
all  the  rest  of  mankind,  am  desirous  of 
felicity,  my  closest  attention  has  been  fixed 
upon  your  discourse  ; I doubt  not  the  truth 
of  a position  which  a man  so  learned  has  so 
confidently  advanced.  Let  me  only  know 
what  it  is  to  live  according  to  nature  ? ” 

“ When  I find  young  men  so  humble  and 
so  docile,”  said  the  philosopher,  “ I can  deny 
them  no  information  which  my  studies  have 
enabled  me  to  afford.  To  live  according  to 
nature  is  to  act  always  with  due  regard  to 
tAe--fltness  arising  from  the  relations  and 
gimlities  of  causes  and  effects  : to  concur 
with  the  great  and  unchangeable  scheme  of 

universal  felicity ; to  co-operate  with 
general  disposition  and  tendency  of  flie 
present  system  of  things.” 


108 


RASSELAS. 


The  prince  soon  found  that  this  was  one 
of  the  sages  whom  he  should  understand 
less  as  he  heard  him  longer.  He  therefore 
bowed  and  was  silent ; and  the  philosopher, 
supposing  him  satisfied,  and  the  rest  van- 
quished, rose  up,  and  departed  with  the  air 
of  a man  that  had  co-operated  with  the 
present  system. 


BASSELAS. 


109 


CHAPTER  XXIIL 

The  Prince  and  his  Sister  Divide  between  them  the 
Work  of  Observation. 

Rasselas  returned  home  full  of  reflections, 
doubtful  how  to  direct  his  future  steps.  Of 
the  way  to  happiness  he  found  the  learned 
and  simple  equally  ignorant ; but,  as  he  was 
yet  young,  he  flattered  himself  that  he  had 
time  remaining  for  more  experiments  and 
further  inquiries.  He  communicated  ta 
Imlac  his  observations  and  his  doubts,  but 
was  answered  by  him  with  new  doubts,  and 
remarks  that  gave  him  no  comfort.  He 
therefore  discoursed  more  frequently  and 
freely  with  his  sister,  who  had  yet  the  same 
hope  with  himself,  and  always  assisted  him 
to  give  some  reason  why,  though  he  had 
been  hitherto  frustrated,  he  might  succeed 
at  last. 

“ We  have  hitherto,”  said  she,  “ known  but 
little  of  the  world : we  have  never  yet  been 
either  great  or  mean.  In  our  own  country^ 


110 


BASSELAS. 


though  we  had  royalty,  we  had  no  power ; 
and  in  this  we  have  not  yet  seen  the  private 
recesses  of  domestic  peace.  Imlac  favors 
not  our  search,  lest  we  should  in  time  find 
him  mistaken.  We  will  divide  the  task  be- 
tween us  : you  shall  try  what  is  to  be  found 
in  the  splendor  of  courts,  and  I will  range 
the  shades  of  humbler  life.  Perhaps  com- 
mand and  authority  may  be  the  supreme 
blessings,  as  they  afford  most  opportunities 
of  doing  good ; or,  perhaps,  what  this  world 
can  give  may  be  found  in  the  modest  habita- 
tions of  middle  fortune ; too  low  for  great 
designs,  and  too  high  for  penury  and  dis- 
tress,” 


BASSELAS. 


ill 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

The  Prince  Examines  the  Happiness  of  High  Stations. 

Rasselas  applauded  tlie  design,  and  ap- 
peared next  day  with  a splendid  retinue  at 
the  court  of  the  Bassa.  He  was  soon  dis- 
tinguished for  his  magnificence,  and  ad- 
mitted, as  a prince  whose  curiosity  had 
brought  him  from  distant  countries,  to  an 
intimacy  with  the  great  officers,  and  fre- 
quent conversation  with  the  Bassa  himself. 

He  was  at  first  inclined  to  believe,  that 
the  man  must  be  pleased  with  his  own  con- 
dition whom  all  approached  with  reverence, 
and  heard  with  obedience,  and  v/ho  had  the 
power  to  extend  his  edicts  to  a avIioIg  king- 
dom. “ There  can  be  no  pleasure,”  said  he, 
equal  to  that  of  feeling  at  once  the  joy  of 
thousands  all  made  happy  by  wise  adminis- 
tration. Yet,  since  by  the  law  of  subordina- 
tion this  sublime  delight  can  bo  in  one  nation 
but  the  lot  of  one,  it  is  surely  reasonable  te 


112 


EASSELAS. 


think  that  there  is  some  satisfaction  more 
popular  and  accessible,  and  that  millions 
can  hardly  be  subjected  to  the  will  of  a sin- 
gle man,  only  to  fill  his  particular  breast 
with  incommunicable  content.’’ 

These  thoughts  were  often  in  his  mind, 
and  he  found  no  solution  of  the  difficulty. 
But  as  presents  and  civilities  gained  him 
more  familiarity,  he  found  that  almost  every 
man  who  stood  high  in  employment  hated 
all  the  rest,  and  was  hated  by  them,  and 
that  their  lives  were  a continual  succession 
of  iplots  and  detections,  stratagems  and  es- 
capes, faction  and  treachery.  Many  of  those 
who  surrounded  the  Bassa  were  sent  only 
to  watch  and  report  his  conduct ; every 
tongue  was  muttering  censure,  and  every 
eye  Avas  searching  for  a fault. 

At  last  the  letters  of  revocation  arrived, 
the  Bassa  was  carried  in  chains  to  Constan- 
tinople, and  his  name  was  mentioned  no 
more. 

What  are  we  now  to  think  of  the  pre- 
rogatives of  power  ? ” said  Rasselas  to  his 
sister;  “is  it  without  any  efficacy  to  good? 
or,  is  the  subordinate  degree  only  dangerous, 
and  the  supreme  safe  and  glorious  ? Is  the 


HAStSELAS, 


113 


Sultan  the  f^ily  happy  man  in  his  domin- 
ions ? or,  is  the  Sultan  himself  subject  to 
the  torments  of  suspicion,  and  the  dread  of 
enemies?” 

In  a short  ICme  the  second  Bassa  was 
deposed.  The  Saltan  that  had  advanced 
him  was  murdertid  by  the  Janizaries,  and 
his  successor  had  ^ther  views  and  different 
favorites* 


114 


BASSELAS, 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

The  Princess  Pursues  her  Inquiry  with  more  Dili- 
gence than  Success. 

The  princess,  in  the  mean  time,  insinuated 
herself  into  many  families ; for  there  are 
few  doors  through  which  liberality,  joined 
with  good  humor,  cannot  find  its  way.  The 
daughters  of  many  houses  were  airy  and 
cheerful ; but  Nekayah  had  been  too  long 
accustomed  to  the  conversation  of  Imlac  and 
her  brother,  to  be  much  pleased  with  child- 
ish levity,  and  prattle  which  had  no  mean- 
ing.  ^^he  found  their  thoughts  narrow, 
^tEeir  wishes  low,  and  their  merrimen^ften 
artifiSiaT  Their  pleasures,  poor  asTH'ejT 
were,  could  not  be  preserved  pure,  but  were 
imbittered  by  petty  competitions  and  worth- 
less emulation.  They  were  always  jealous 
of  the  beauty  of  each  other ; of  a quality  to 
which  solicitude  can  add  nothing,  and  from 
which  detraction  can  take  nothing  away. 
Many  were  in  love  with  triflers  like  them- 


ItASSELAS. 


115 


selves,  and  many  fancied  that  they  were 
in  love  when  in  truth  they  were  only  idle. 
Their  affection  was  not  fixed  on  sense  or 
virtue,  andTEdrefore  seiaom  ended  but  in 

vexation.  Their^grief,  however,  like  their 
joy,  was  transient:  everything  floated  in 
their  mind  unconnected  with  the  past  or 
future,  so  that  one  desire  easily  gave  way  to 
another,  as  a second  stone  cast  into  the  water 
effaces  and  confounds  the  circles  of  the  first. 

With  these  girls  she  played  as  v/itli  inof- 
fensive animals,  and  found  them  proud  of 
her  countenance,  and  weary  of  her  com- 
pany. 

But  her  purpose  was  to  examine  more 
deeply,  and  her  affability  easily  persuaded 
the  hearts  that  were  swelling  with  sorrow 
to  discharge  their  secrets  in  her  ear : and 
those  whom  hope  flattered,  or  prosperity 
delighted,  often  courted  her  to  partake  their 
pleasures. 

The  princess  and  her  brother  commonly 
met  in  the  evening  in  a private  summer- 
house on  the  bank  of  the  ISTile,  and  related 
to  each  other  the  occurrences  of  the  day. 
As  they  were  sitting  together,  the  princess 
cast  her  eyes  upon  the  river  that  flowed  be- 


116 


RASSELAS. 


fore  her.  “ Answer,”  said  she,  “ great  father 
of  waters,  thou  that  rollest  thy  floods  through 
eighty  nations,  to  the  invocations  of  the 
daughter  of  thy  native  king.  Tell  me  if 
thou  waterest  through  all  thy  course,  a sin< 
gle  habitation  from  which  thou  dost  notheai 
the  murmurs  of  complaint ! ” 

“You  are  then,”  said Rasselas,  “not more 
successful  in  private  houses  than  I have 
been  in  courts.” 

“ I have,  since  the  last  partition  of  our  pro- 
vinces,” said  the  princess,  “ enabled  myself 
to  enter  familiarly  into  many  families,  where 
there  was  the  fairest  show  of  prosperity  and 
peace,  and  know  not  one  house  that  is  not 
haunted  by  some  fury  that  destroys  their 
quiet.  I did  not  seek  ease  among  the  poor, 
because  I concluded  that  there  it  could  not 
be  found.  But  I saw  many  poor^hom  I had 
supposed  to  live  in  affluence,  poverty  has, 
in  large  cities,  very  different  Appearances : 
it  is  often  conceaj^d  in  splendor,  and  often 
in  extravagance.  3 It  is  the  care  of  a very 
great  part  of  ma^ind  to  conceal  their  indi- 
gence from  the  i*est;  they  support  them- 
selves by  temporary  expedients,  and  ^ery 
day  is  lost  in  contriving  for  the  morroi%. 


. BASSELA8. 


117 


‘‘  This,  however,  was  an  evil  which,  though 
frequent,  I saw  with  less  pain,  because  I 
could  relieve  it.  Yet  some  have  refused  my 
bounties ; more  offended  with  my  quickness 
to  detect  their  wants  than  pleased  with  my 
readiness  to  succor  them,  and  others,  whose 
exigencies  compelled  them  to  admit  my  kind- 
ness, have  never  been  able  to  forgive  their 
benefactress.  Many,  however,  have  been 
sincerely  grateful,  without  the  ostenta^on 
oFgratitude,  or  tEe  hope  ofl)therfayors/’ 


118 


MA8SELAA 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

The  Princess  Continues  her  Remarks  upon  PriTate 
Life. 

Neka  YAH,  perceiving  her  brother’s  atten- 
tion fixed,  proceeded  in  her  narrative. 

“ In  fainilies,  where  there  is  or  is  not  pov- 
erty, there  is  commonly  discord  : if  a king- 
dom be,  as  Imlac  tells  us,  a great  familyv  a 
family  likewise  is  a little  kingdom,  torn  with 
factions  and_  exposed  to  revolutions.  Am 
unpracticed  observer  expects  the  love  uf 
parents  and  children  to  be  constant  and 
equal  ;_but  this  kindness  seldom  continues 
beyond  the  years  of  infancy;  in  a short 
time  the  children  become  rivals  to  their 
parents.^  Benefits  are  allayed  by  reproaches7 
and  gratitude  debased  by  envy. 

“ Parents  and  children  seldom  act  in  con- 
. cert : each  child  endeavors  to  appropriate  the 
esteem  or  fondness  of  the  parents,  and  the 
parents,  with  yet  less  temptation,  betray 
each  other  to  their  children : thus  some  place 


BASSELAS. 


119 


their  confidence  in  the  father,  and  some  in 
the  mother,  and  by  degrees  the  house  is 
Hied  with  artifices  and  feuds. 

“ The  opinions  of  children  and  parents,  of 
.the  -^ung  and  the  oiar  are~"haturally  opjjo-* 

site,  by  the  contrary  effects  of  hope  and  de- 
spondence, of  expectation  and  experience, 
without  crime  or  folly  on  either  side.  The 
colors  of  life  in  youth  and  age  appear  dif- 
ferent, as  the  face  of  nature  in  spring  and 
winter.  And  how  can  children  credit  the 
assertions  of  parents,  which  their  own  eyes 
show  them  to  be  false  ? 

‘‘Few  parents  act  m such  a manner  as 
much  to  enforce  tiieir  maxims  by  the  credit 

oTTIMjNlivcs.  Thanid  mnn  tru ntn 
to  slow  contrivance  progres- 

sion : the  youth  expects  to  force  his  way  by 
ge^us,  yjgor^^lmd  :precipitanc^  old 
man  pays  regard  to  riches,  and  the  youth 
reverences  virtue.  *T''he^~oId  man  defies 

prudence  : the youth  '“cdmniits — hhnself 

magnanimity  andT^cTiahce.  ^~TIie~young 
jman,  who  intends  no  ill,  believes  that  none 
is  intended,  and  therefore  acts  with  open- 
ness-and .caiidor ; but  JiisJai^er,  having  suf- 
fered the  injuries  of  fraud,  is  impelled  to 


120 


BASSELA  V 


suspect,  and  too  often  alluiv^d  to  practice  it. 
Age  looks  with  anger  on  tJie  tei^rity  of 
youjbb,  and  youth  with  contempt  on  the 
K^fu^losity  of  age.  Thus  parents  and 
c.hTIdren,  for  the  greatest  part,  live  on  to 
love  less  and  less : and  if  those  whom  nature 
has  thus  closely  united  are  the  torments  of 
each  other,  where  shall  we  look  for  tender- 
ness and  consolation.” 

‘‘Surely,”  said  the  prince,  “you  must 
have  been  unfortunate  in  your  choice  of 
acquaintance : I am  unwilling  to  believe, 
that  the  most  tender  of  all  relations  is  thus 
impeded  in  its  effects  by  natural  necessity.” 

“Domestic  discord,”  answered  she,  “is 
not  inevitably  and  fatally  necessary;  but 
yet  it  is  not  easy  to  avoid.  We  seldom  see 
that  a whole  family  is  virtuous ; the  good 
and  evil  cannot  well  agree ; and  the  evil  can 
yet  less  agree  with  one  another;  even  the 
virtuous  fall  sometimes  to  variance,  when 
their  virtues  are  of  different  kinds  and  tend- 
ing to  extremes.  In,  general,  those  parents 
have  most  reverence  that  most  deserve  it ; 
for  he  that  lives  well  cannot  be  despised. 

“ Many  o^r  evils  jjifeslL  pd^gai^^ 
Some  are  the  slaves  of  servants  whom  they 


nASSELAS. 


121 


have  trusted  with  their  affairs, ' Some  are  / 
kept  in  continual  anxiety  by  the  caprice  of  / 
rich  relations,  whom  they  cannot  please  and 
dare  not  offend.  Some  husbands  are  impe-| 
rious,  and  some  wives  perverse:  and  as  it  is! 
always  more  easy  to  do  evil  than  good,  though! 
the  wisdom  or  virtue  of  one  can  very  rarelyjy 
make  many  happy,  the  folly  or  vice  of  onev 
may  often  make  many  miserable.” 

If  such  be  the  general  effect  of  marriage,” 
said  the  prince,  ‘‘I  shall,  for  the  future, 
think  it  dangerous  to  connect  rny  interest 
with  that  of  another,  lest  I should  be  un- 
happy by  my  partner’s  fault.” 

“ I - have  met.”  said  the  princess,  “ with 
many  who  live  single  for  that  reason ; buF 
I have  never  found  that  their  prudence 
ought  to  raise  envy.  They  dream  away 
their  time  withouETriendship,  without  fond- 
ness, and  are  driven  to  rid  themselves  of  the 
day,  for  which  they  have  no  use,  by  childish 
amusements  or  vicious  delights.  They  act 
as  beings  under  the  constant  sense  of  soma 
known  inferiority,  that  fills  their  minds  with 
rancor;  and  their  tongues  with  censure] 
They  are  peevish  at  home,  and  malevolenj; 

abroad;  and,  as  the  outlaws  of  human 

i 


122 


nature,  make  it  their  business  and  their 
pleasure  to  disturb  that  society  which  de- 
bars them  from  its  privileges.  To  live  with- 
out feeling  or  exciting  sympathy,  to  bo 
fortunate  without  adding  to  the  felicity  of 
others,  or  afflicted  without  tasting  the  balm 
of  pity,  is  a state  more  gloomy  than  soli- 
tude ; it  is  not  retreat,  but  exclusion  from 
mankind.  Marriage  has  many  pains,  but 
celibacy  has  no  pleasures.” 

*^Trhat,  then,  is  to  be  done?”  said  Ras- 
selas;  the  more  v/e  inquire  the  less  we  can 
resolve^  Surely  he  is  most  likely  to  please 
himself  that  has  no  other  inclination  or 
regard.” 


BASSELA8. 


I2ik 


CHAPTER  XXVIL 


Disquisition  upon  Greatness. 


The  conversation  had  a short  pause.  The 
prince,  having  considered  his  sister’s  obser- 
vations, told  her,  that  she  had  surveyed  life 
with  prejudice,  and  supposed  misery  v/hero 
she  did  not  find  it.  ‘‘  Your  narrative,”  says 
he,  “ throws  yet  a darker  gloom  upon  the 
prospects  of  futurity;  the  predictions  of 
Imlac  v/ero  but  faint  sketches  of  the  evils 
painted  by  Nekayah.  I have  been  lately 
convinced  that  quiet  is  not  the  daughter  of 
grandeur  or  of  power : that  her  presence  is 
not  to  be  bought  by  wealth,  nor  enforced 


conquest.  It  is  evident,  that  as  any  n 
acts  in  a wider  compass,  he  must  be  m* 
exposed  to  opposition  from  enmity,  or  n 
carriage  from  chance;  whoever  has  ma 
to  please  or  to  govern  must  use  the  minisi 
of  many  agents,  some  of  whom  will 
wicked,  and  some  ignorant;  by  some 


RAS8ELAS. 


r 

will  be  misled,  and  by  others  betrayed.  If  he 
gratifies  one,  he  will  offend  another : those 
that  are  not  favored  will  think  themselves 
injured : and,  since  favors  can  be  conferred 
but  upon  few,  the  greater  number  will  be 
always  discontented.” 

‘‘  The  discontent,”  said  the  princess, 
which  is  thus  unreasonable,  I hope  that  I 
§hall  always  have  spirit  to  despise,  and  you 
power  to  repress.” 

“Discontent,”  answered  Rasselas,  “will 
not  always  be  without  reason  under  the 
most  just  and  vigilant  administration  of 
public  affairs.  None,  however  attentive, 
can  always  discover  that  merit  which  indul- 
gence or  faction  may  happen  to  obscure; 
and  none,  however  powerful,  can  always 
reward  ii.  Yet  he  that  sees  inferior  desert 
advanced  above  him  will  naturally  impute 
that  preference  to  partiality  or  caprice ; and, 
indeed,  it  can  scarcely  be  hoped  that  any 
man,  however  magnanimous  by  nature,  or 
exalted  by  condition,  will  be  able  to  persist 
forever  in  the  fixed  and  inexorable  justice  of 
distribution ; he  will  sometimes  indulge  his 
own  affections,  and  sometimes  those  of  his 
favorites;  he  will  permit  some  to  please 


BASSELAS. 


125 


him  who  can  never  serve  him ; he  will  dis- 
cover, in  those  whom  he  loves,  qualities 
which  in  reality  they  do  not  possess ; and 
to  those,  from  whom  he  receives  pleasure, 
he  will  in  his  turn  endeavor  to  give  it. 
Thus  will  recommendations  sometimes  pre- 
vail which  were  purchased  by  money,  or 
by  the  more  destructive  bribery  of  flattery 
and  servility. 

“ He  that  has  much  to  do  will  do  something 
wrong,  and  of  that  wrong  must  suffer  the 
consequences ; and  if  it  were  possible  that 
he  should  always  act  rightly,  yet  when 
such  numbers  are  to  judge  of  his  conduct, 
the  bad  will  censure  and  obstruct  him  by 
malevolence,  and  the  good  sometimes  by 
mistake.  

‘‘The  highest  stations  cannot  therefore 
hope  to  be  abodes  of  happiness,  which  I 
would  willingly  believe  to  have  fled  from 
thrones  and  palaces  to  seats  of  humble 
privacy  and  placid  obscurity.  For  what  j 
can  hinder  the  satisfaction,  or  intercept  the 
expectations,  of  him  whose  abilities  are 
adequate  to  his  employments,  who  sees  with 
his  own  eyes  the  whole  circuit  of  his  influ- 
ence, who  chooses  by  his  own  knowledge  r 


126 


BASSELA8. 


all  'vvhom  he  trusts,  and  whom  none  are 
tempted  to  deceive  by  hope  or  fear  ? Surely 
he  has  nothing  to  do  but  to  love  and  to 
be  loved,  to  be  virtuous,  and  to  be  happy 
“ V/hether  perfect  happiness  would  be  pro- 
cured by  perfect  goodness,”  said  Nekayah, 
this  world  will  never  afford  an  opportunity 
of  deciding.  But  this,  at  least,  may  bo 
maintained,  that  we  do  not  always  find 
visible  happiness  in  proportion  to  visil^lo 

virtue. All  natural  and  almost^l  political 

evils  are  incident  alike  to  the  bad  andgood ; 
they  are  confounded  in  the  misery  of  a 
famine,  and  not  much  distinguished  in  tho 
fury  of  a faction ; they  sink  together  in  a 
tempest,  and  are  driven  together  from  their 
country  by  invaders.  All  that  virtue  can 
.afford  is  quietness  of  conscience^  a stpady 
prospect  of  a happier  state  ; this  may  enabl^e 

us  to  endure  calamity  with  patience;  but 

remembgr  that  patience  must  suppose 

pain,” 


SASSELAa. 


127 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

Rasselas  and  Nekayab  Continue  their  Conversation. 

“ Dear  princess,”  said  Rasselas,  ‘^you  fall 
into  the  common  errors  of  exaggeratory 
declamation,  by  producing,  in  a familiar 
disquisition,  examples  of  national  calamities, 
and  scenes  of  extensive  misery,  which  are 
found  in  books  rather  than  in  the  world, 
and  which,  as  they  are  horrid,  are  ordained 
to  be  rare.  Let  us  not  imagine  evils  which 
we  do  not  feel,  nor  injure  life  by  misrepre- 
sentations. I cannot  bear  that  querulous 
eloquence  which  threatens  every  city  with 
a siege  like  that  of  Jerusalem,  that  makes 
famine  attend  on  every  flight  of  locusts,  and 
suspends  pestilence  on  the  wing  of  every 
blast  that  issues  from  the  south. 

“ On  necessary  and  inevitable  evils,  which 
overwhelm  kingdoms  at  once,  all  disputation 
is  vain : when  they  happen,  they  must  bo 
endured.  But  it  is  evident  that  these 


128 


RASSELAS. 


bursts  of  unrversal  distress  are  more  dreaded 
than  felt;  thousands  and  ten  thousands 
flourish  in  youth  and  wither  in  age,  with- 
out the  knowledge  of  any  other  than  domes- 
tic evils,  and  share  the  same  pleasures  and 
vexations,  whether  their  kings  are  mild  or 
cruel,  whether  the  armies  of  their  country 
pursue  their  enemies  or  retreat  before  them. 
While  courts  are  disturbed  with  intestine 
competitions,  and  ambassadors  are  negotiat- 
ing in  foreign  countries,  the  smith  still  plies 
his  anvil,  and  the  husbandman  drives  his 
plow  forward ; the  necessaries  of  life  are 
required  and  obtained ; and  the  successive 
business  of  the  seasons  continues  to  make 
its  wonted  revolutions. 

“ Let  us  cease  to  consider  what,  perhaps, 
may  never  happen,  and  what,  when  it  shall 
happen,  will  laugh  at  human  speculation. 
We  will  not  endeavor  to  modify  the  motions 
of  the  elements,  or  to  fix  the  destiny  of 
kingdoms.  It  is  our  business  to  consider 
what  beings  like  us  may  perform ; each 
laboring  for  his  own  happiness  by  promot- 
ing within  his  circle,  however  narrow,  the 
happiness  of  others. 

♦‘Marriage  is  evidently  the'  dictate  of 


BASSELAS, 


^ ' ''fas 

Bature;  men  and  women  are  made  to  be 
companions  of  each  other,  and  therefore  I 
cannot  be  persuaded  but  that  marriage  is 
one  of  the  means  of  happiness.” 

‘‘  I know  not,”  said  the  princess.^  “ whether 
marriage  be  more  than  one  of  the  innumer- 
able modes  of  human  misery.  When  I see 
and  reckon  the  various  forms  of  connubial 
infelicity,  the  unexpected  causes  of  lasting 
discord,  the  diversities  of  temper,  the  opposi- 
tions of  opinion,  the  rude  collisions  of  con- 
trary desire  where  both  are  urged  by  violent 
impulses,  the  obstinate  contests  of  disagree- 
able virtues  where  both  are  supported  by 
consciousness  of  good  intention,  I am  some- 
times disposed  to  think,  with  the  severer 
casuists  of  most  nations,  that  marriage  is 
rather  permitted  than  approved,  and  that 
none,  but  by  the  mstigation  of  a passion 
too  much  indulged,  entangle  themselves 
with  indissoluble  compacts.” 

‘‘You  seem  to  forget,”  replied  Rasselas, 
“ that  you  have,  even  now,  represented 
celibacy  as  le¥s  happy  than  marriage]  Both 
conditions  may  be  bad,  but  they  cannot  both 

be  worst.  Thus  it  Tiannens  when  wrong 

’oplmonsltre  entertained,  that  they  mutually 
^ 


130 


hasselas. 


destroy  each  other,  and  leave  the  mind  open 

^TrutET’  ^ 

« i did  not  expect,”  answered  the  princess, 
to  hear  that  imputed  to  falsehood  which 
is  the  consequence  only  of  frailty.  To  the 
mind,  as  to  the  eye,  it  is  difficult  to  compare 
with  exactness  objects  vast  in  their  extenh 
aW  various  m tiieiFpa^s.  Wherewe^e  or 
conceive  the  whole  at  once,  we  readily  note 
the  discriminations,  and  decide  the  prefer- 
ence ; but  of  two  systems,  of  which  neither 
can  be  surveyed  by  any  human  being  in  its 
full  compass  of  magnitude  and  multiplicity 
of  complication, -^ere  is  the  wonder  that, 
judging  of  the  whole  by  parts,  I am^lter- 
nately  affected  by  one  and  the  other,  as  either 
p^ii^sesimTErv^efn  or  fancy  ? We  differ 
from  ourselves  just  as  we  differ  from  each 
other,  when  we  see  only  parts  of  the  question, 
as  in  the  multifarious  relations  of  politics 
and  morality;  but  when  we  perceive  the 
whole  at  once,  as  numerical  computations, 
alF agree  Tn  one  judgment,  and  none  ever 
varies  his  opinion.” 

“ Let  us  not  add,”  said  the  prince,  to 
the  other  evils  of  life  the  bitterness  of  con- 
troversy, nor  endeavor  to  vie  with  each  other 


hasselas. 


m 


in  subtilties  of  argument.  We  are  employed 
in  a search,  of  which  both  are  equally  ta 
enjoy  the  success,  or  suffer  by  the  mis- 
carriage. It  is  therefore  fit  that  we  assist 
each  other.  Y ou  surely  conclude  too  hastily 
from  the  infelicity  of  marriage  against  its 
institution : will  not  the  misery  of  life  prove 
equally  that  life  cannot  be  the  gift  of  Heaven? 
The  world  must  be  peopled  by  marriage,  or 
peopled  without  it.*’ 

“How  the  world  is  to  be  peopled,”  re- 
turned Nekayah,  “ is  not  my  care,  and 
needs  not  be  yours.  I see  no  danger  that 
the  present  generation  should  omit  to  leave 
successors  behind  them ; we  are  not  now 
inquiring  for  the  world,  but  for  ourselves.” 


JLA^JSEJLAIi^ 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

Tiie  Debate  of  Marriage  Continued. 

“ The  good  cf  tlie  whole,”  says  Rasselas, 
^ is  the  samo  with  the  good  of  all  its  parts. 
If  marriage  be  best  for  mankind,  it  must  be 
evidently  best  for  individuals,  or  a permanent 
and  necessary  duty  must  be  the  cause  of 
evil,  and  some  must  be  inevitably  sacrificed 
to  the  convenience  of  others.  In  the  estimate 
v/hich  you  have  made  of  the  two  states,  it 
appears  that  the  incommodities  of  a single 
life  are,  in  a great  measure^  necessary  and 
certain^  TyTit  tliose  cf  the  con^jugal  state 
accidental  and  avoidable.  ^ 

I cannot  forbear  to  ffiitter  myself,  that 
prudence  and  benevolenc^e  will  make  mar- 
riage happy.  The  general  folly  of  mankind 
is  the  cause  of  general  complaint.  What 
can  be  expected  but  disappointment  and  re- 
pentance from  a choice  made  in  the  immatur- 


RASSELA8. 


idS 

ity  of  youth,  in  the  ardor  of  desire,  with* 
out  judgment,  without  foresight,  without 
inquiry  after  conformity  of  opinions,  simi- 
larity of  manners,  rectitude  of  judgment,  or 
purity  of  sentiment  ? 

‘‘Such  is  the  common  process  of  mar- 
riage. A youth  or  maiden  meeting  by 
chance,  Ox^  brought  together  by  artifice, 
exchange  glances,  reciprocate  civilities,  go 
home,  and  dream  of  one  another.  Hav- 
ing little  to  divert  attention,  or  diversify 
thought,  they  find  themselves  uneasy  when 
they  are  apart,  and  therefore  conclude  that 
they  shall  be  happy  together.  They  marry, 
and  discover  what  nothing  but  voluntary 
blindness  before  had  concealed;  they  wear 
out  life  in  altercations,  and  charge  nature 
with  cruelty. 

“ From  those  early  marriages  proceeds 
likewise  the  rivalry  of  parents  and  children ; 
the  son  is  eager  to  enjoy  the  world  before 
the  father  is  willing  to  forsake  it,  and  there 
is  hardly  room  at  once  for  two  generations. 
The  daughter  begins  to  bloom  before  the 
mother  can  be  content  to  fade,  and  neither 
can  forbear  to  wish  for  the  absence  of  the 
other. 


134 


BASSELAS. 


“ Surely  all  these  evils  may  be  avoided  by 
that  deliberation  and  delay  which  prudence 
prescribes  to  irrevocable  choice.  In  the 
variety  and  jollity  of  youthful  pleasures  life 
may  be  well  enough  supported  without  the 
help  of  a partner.  Longer  time  will  increase 
experience,  and  wider  views  will  allow  better 
opportunities  of  inquiry  and  selection ; one 
advantage  at  least,  will  be  certain;  the 
parents  will  be  visibly  older  than  their 
children.” 

‘‘What  reason  cannot  collect,”  said  Ne- 
kayah,  “ and  what  experiment  has  not  yet 
taught,  can  be  known  only  from  the  report 
of  others.  I have  been  told  that  late  mar^ 
riages  are  not  eminently  happy.  This  is  a 
question  too  important  to  be  neglected,  and 
I have  often  proposed  it  to  those  whose  ac- 
curacy of  remark  and  comprehensiveness  of 
knowledge  made  their  suffrages  worthy  of 
regard.  They  have  generally  determined 
that  it  is  dangerous  for  a man  and  woman 
to  suspend  their  fate  upon  each  other,  at  a 
time  when  opinions  are  fixed,  and  habits  are 
established;  when  friendships  have  been 
contracted  on  both  sides,  when  life  has  been 
planned  into  method,  and  the  mind  has  long 


JiA^S  SUL  A S» 


JL^iJ 


enjoyed  the  contemplation  of  its  own  pros- 
pects. 

“It  is  scarcely  possible  that  two,  travel- 
ing through  the  world,  under  the  conduct  of 
chance,  should  have  been  both  directed  to 
the  same  path,  and  it  will  not  often  happen 
that  either  will  quit  the  track  which  custom  ^ 
has  made  pleasing.  When  the  desnh-.ory 
levity  of  youth  has  settled  into  regularity^ 
it  is  soon  succeeded  by  pride  ashamed  to 
yieS,  or"^bstinacy  delighting  to  contend, 
And’even  though  mutual  esteem  produces 
mutual  desire  to  please,  time  itself,  as  it 
modifies  unchangeably  the  external  mien, 
determines  likewise  the  direction  of  the 
passions,  and  gives  an  inflexible  rigidity  to 
the  manners.  Long  customs  are  not  easily 
broken:  he  that  attempts  to  change  the 
course  of  his  own  life  very  often  labors  in  " 
vain : and  how  shall  we  do  that  for  others 
which  we  are  seldom  able  to  do  for  our- 
selves?” 

“ But  surely,”  interposed  the  prince,  “ you 
suppose  the  chief  motive  of  choice  forgotten 
or  neglected.  Whenever  I shall  seek  a wife, 
it  shall  be  my  first  question,  whether  she  be 
willing  to  be  led  by  reason?” 


136 


BASSELAS. 


‘^Thus  it  is,’*  said  Nekayah, ‘Hhat  phil 
cnsophers  are  deceived.  There  are  a thou- 
sand familiar  disputes  which  reason  never 
can  decide ; questions  that  elude  investiga- 
tion, and  make  logic  ridiculous  ; cases  where 
something  must  be  done,  and  where  little 
can  be  said.  Consider  the  state  of  mankind, 
and  inquire  how  few  can  be  supposed  to  act 
uj)on  any  occasions,  whether  small  or  great, 
with  all  the  reasons  of  action  present  to 
their  minds.  Wretched  would  be  the  pair 
above  all  names  of  wretchedness,  wno  should 
be^oom“ed  to  adjust  by  reason,  every  morn- 
ing,  all  the  minute  detail  of  a domestic  day, 

“Those  who  marry  at  an  advanced  age 
will  probably  escape  the  encroachments  of 
their  children;  but,  in  diminution  of  this 
advantage,  they  will  be  likely*to  leave  them, 
ignorant  aiid  helpless,"~fo  a guardian’s 
n^ercy : or,  if  that  sEould  not  happen,  they 
must  at  least  go  out  of  the  world  before 
they  see  those  whom  they  love^  best  either 
wise  or  great. 

“ From  their  children,  if  they  have  less  to 
fear,  they  have  less  also  to  hope ; and  they 
lose,  without  equivalent,  the  joys  of  early 
love,  and  the  convenience  of  uniting  with 


RAS8ELAS. 


137 


manners  pliant,  and  minds  susceptible  of 
new  impressions,  which  might  wear  away 
their  dissimilitudes  by  long  cohabitation; 
as  soft  bodies,  by  continual  attrition,  con- 
form their  surfac  3s  to  each  other. 

“ I believe  it  will  be  found  that  these  who  ^ 
mar^  late  are  best  pleased  with  their  chil-  X 
dren,  and  those  who  marry  early  with  their 

partners.” 

“The  union  of  these  two  affections,”  said 
Kasselas,  “ would  produce  all  that  could  be 
wished.  Perhaps  there  is  a time  when  mar- 
riage might  unite  them,  a time  neither  too 
early  for  the  father,  nor  too  late  for  the 
husband.” 

“Every  hour,”  answered  the  princess, 
confirms  my  prejudice  in  favor  of  the 
position  so  often  uttered  by  the  mouth  of 
Imlac,  _‘Thai^  nature  sets  her  gifts  on  the 
right  hand  and  on  the  left?  Tliose  condi- 
tions, which  flatter  hope  and  attract  desire, 
are  so  constituted,  that,  as  we  approach 
one,  we  recede  from  another.  There  are 
goods  so  opposed  that  we  cannot  seize  both, 
but,  by  too  much  prudence,  may  pass  be- 
tween them  at  too  great  a distance  to  reach 
either.  This  is  often  the  fate  of  long  con- 


138 


RASSELAS. 


sideration ; he  does  nothing  who  endeavors 
to  do  more  than  is  allowed  to  humanity. 
Flatter  not  yourself  with  contrarieties  of 
pleasure.  Of  the  blessings  set  before  you 
make  your  choice,  and  be  content.  No  man 
can  taste  the  fruits  of  autumn  while  he  is 
delighting  his  scent  with  the  flowers  of 
spring:  no  man  can,  at  the  same  time,  fill 
his  cup  from  the  source  and  from  the  mouth 
of  the  Nile*” 


aS  ^EJL^  S» 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

Imlac  enters,  and  changes  the  ConversatioiL 

Here  Imlac  entered  and  interrupted  them. 

Imlac,”  said  Rasselas,  ‘‘I  have  been  taking 
from  the  princess  the  dismal  history  of  pri- 
vate life,  and  am  almost  discouraged  from 
further  search.” 

“It  seems  to  me,”  said  Imlac,  “that 
while  you  are  making  the  choice  of  life,  you 
neglect  to  live.  You  wander  about  a single 
city,  which,  however  large  and  diversified, 
can  now  afford  few  novelties,  and  forget  that 
you  are  in  a country  famous  among  the 
earliest  monarchies  for  the  power  and  wis- 
dom of  its  inhabitants ; a country  where  the 
sciences  first  dawned  that  illuminate  the 
world,  and  beyond  which  the  arts  cannot  be 
traced  of  civil  society  or  domestic  life. 

“ The  old  Egyptians  have  left  behind  them 
monuments  of  industry  and  power,  before 
which  all  European  magnificence  is  con- 


140 


RASSELAS. 


fessed  to  fade  away.  The  ruins  of  theJr 
architecture  are  the  schools  of  modem 
builders,  and  from  the  wonders  which  time 
has  spared,  we  may  conjecture,  though  un^ 
certainly,  what  it  has  destroyed.” 

“ My  curiosity,”  said  Rasselas,  « does  not 
very  strongly  lead  me  to  survey  the  piles  of 
stone  or  mounds  of  earth ; my  business  is 
with  man.  I came  hither  not  to  measure 
fragments  of  temples,  or  trace  choked  aque- 
ducts, but  to  look  upon  the  various  scenes 
of  the  present  world.” 

‘‘  The  things  that  are  now  before  us,”  said 
the  princess,  “ require  attention  and  deserve 
it.  What  have  I to  do  with  the  heroes  or 
the  monuments  of  ancient  times?  with 
times  which  never  can  return,  and  heroes, 
whose  form  of  life  was  different  from  all 
that  the  present  condition  of  man  requires 
or  allows  ? ” 

To  know  anything,”  returned  the  poet, 
‘‘  we  must  know  its  effects ; to  see  men  we 
must  see  their  works,  that  we  may  leam 
what  reason  has  dictated,  or  passion  has 
incited,  and  find  what  are  the  most  power- 
ful motives  of  action.  To  judge  rightly  of 
the  present,  we  must  oppose  it  to  the  past ; 


BASSELAS, 


141 


for  all  judgment  is  comparative,  and  of  the 
future  nothing  can  be  known.  The  truth  is, 
that  no  mind  is  much  employed  upon  the 
present : recollection  and  anticipation  fill  up 

almost  all  our  moments.  Our  passions  are 
joy  and  grief,  lov^and  hatred,  hope  and 
fear.  Of  joy  and  grief  the  past  is  the  object, 
and  the  future  of  hope  and  fear ; even  love 
and  hatred  respect  the  past,  for  the  cause 
must  have  been  before  the  effect. 

“ The  present  state  of  things  is  the  con- 
sequence of  the  former,  and  it  is  natural  to 
inquire  what  were  the  sources  of  the  good 

that  we  enjoy,  or  the  evil  that  we  suffer;: If 

we  act  only  for  ourselves,  to  neglect  the 
study  of  history  is  not  prudent : if  we  are 
intrusted  witli  the  care^T^thers,  it  is  not 
ju^L^  Ignorance,  when  it  is  voluntary,  is 
criminal ; and  he  may  be  properly  charged 
with  evil  who  refused  to  learn  how  he  might 
prevent  it. 

“ There  is  no  part  of  history  so  generally 
useful  as  that  which  relates  the  progress  of 
the  human  mind,  the  gradual  improvement 
of  reason,  the  successive  advances  of  science, 
the  vicissitudes  of  learning  and  ignorance, 
which  are  the  light  and  darkness  of  thinking 


142 


BA8SELAS. 


being?,  the  extinction  and  resuscitation  of 
arts,  and  the  revolutions  of  the  intellectual 
world.  If  accounts  of  battles  and  invasions 
are  peculiarly  the  business  of  princes,  the 
useful  or  elegant  arts  are  not  to  be  neglected ; 
those  who  have  kingdoms  to  govern  have 
understandings  to  cultivate. 

Example  is  always  more  efficacious  than 
precept.  A soldier  is  formed  in  war,  and  a 
painter  must  copy  pictures.  In  this,  con- 
templative life  has  the  advantage:  great 
actions  are  seldom  seen,  but  the  labors  of 
art  are  always  at  hand  for  those  who  desire 
to  know  what  art  has  been  able  to  perform. 

“When  the  eye  or  the  imagination  is 
struck  with  an  uncommon  work,  the  next 
transition  of  an  active  mind  is  to  the  means 
by  which  it  was  performed.  Here  begins 
the  true  use  of  such  contemplation;  we 
enlarge  our  comprehension  by  new  ideas, 
and  perhaps  recover  some  art  lost  to  man- 
kind, or  learn  what  is  less  perfectly  known 
in  our  own  country.  At  least  we  compare 
our  own  with  former  times,  and  either  rejoice 
at  our  improvements,  or,  Avhat  is  the  first 
motion  towards  good,  discover  our  defects.” 

“ I am  willing,”  said  the  prince,  “ to  see 


^ASSELAS. 


143 


all  that  can  deserve  my  search.”  And  I,” 
said  the  princess,  “shall  rejoice  to  learn 
something  of  the  manners  of  antiquity.” 

“ The  most  pompous  monument  of  Egyp- 
tian greatness,  and  one  of  the  most  bulky 
works  of  manual  industry,”  said  Imlac,  “ are 
the  Pyramids ; fabrics  raised  before  the 
time  of  history,  and  of  which  the  earliest 
narratives  afford  us  only  uncertain  tradi- 
tions. Of  these  the  greatest  is  still  stand- 
ing, very  little  injured  by  time.” 

“Let  us  visit  them  to-morrow,”  said 
Kekayah.  “ I have  often  heard  of  the  Pyr- 
amids, and  shall  not  rest  until  I have  seen 
them  within  and  without  with  my  own 
eyei.’’ 


144 


BASSELAS.I 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

They  visit  the  Pyramids. 

The  resolution  being  taken,  they  set  out 
the  next  day.  They  laid  tents  upon  their 
camels,  being  resolved  to  stay  among  the 
Pyramids  till  their  curiosity  was  fully  satis- 
fied. They  traveled  gently,  turned  aside  to 
everything  remarkable,  stopped  from  time 
to  time  and  conversed  with  the  inhabitants, 
and  observed  the  various  appearances  of 
towns  ruined  and  inhabited,  of  wild  and 
cultivated  nature. 

When  they  came  to  the  great  Pyramid, 
they  were  astonished  at  the  extent  of  the 
base,  and  the  height  of  the  top.  Imlac  ex- 
plained to  them  the  principles  upon  which 
the  pyramidical  form  was  chosen  for  a 
fabric  intended  to  co-extend  its  duration 
with  that  of  the  world : he  showed  that  its 
gradual  diminution  gave  it  such  stability  as 
defeated  all  the  common  attacks  of  the  ele- 


jRASSELAS. 


145 


ments,  and  could  scarcely  be  overthrown 
by  earthquakes  themselves,  the  least  resist- 
ible of  natural  violence.  A concussion  that 
should  shatter  the  Pyramid  would  threaten 
the  dissolution  of  the  continent. 

They  measured  all  its  dimensions,  and 
pitched  their  tents  at  its  foot.  Next  day 
they  prepared  to  enter  its  interior  apart- 
ments ; and,  having  hired  the  common 
guides,  climbed  up  to  the  first  passage, 
w^hen  the  favorite  of  the  princess,  looking 
into  the  cavity,  stepped  back  and  trembled. 
‘^Pekuah,”  said  the  princess,  “of  what  art 
thou  afraid?”  “Of  the  narrow  entrance,” 
answered  the  lady,  “and  of  the  dreadful 
gloom.  I dare  not  enter  a place  which  must 
surely  be  inhabited  by  unquiet  souls.  The 
oiiginal  possessors  of  these  dreadful  vaults 
will  start  up  before  us,  and  perhaps  shut  us 
in  forever.”  She  spoke,  and  threw  her  arms 
round  the  neck  of  her  mistress. 

“ If  all  your  fear  be  of  apparitions,”  said 
the  prince,  “I  will  promise  you  safety; 
there  is  no  danger  from  the  dead ; he  that 
is  once  buried  will  be  seen  no  more.” 

“ That  the  dead  are  seen  no  more,”  said 
Imlac,  “I  will  not  undertake  to  maintain, 
10 


146 


EASSELAS, 


against  the  concurrent  and  unvaried  testa- 
moiiy  cf  all  ages  and  of  all  nations.  There 
is  no  people,  rude  or  learned,  among  whom 
apparitions  of  the  dead  are  not  related  and 
believed.  This  opinion,  which  perhaps  pre- 
vails  as  far  as  human  nature  is  diffused, 
could  become  universal  only  by  its  truth; 
those  that  never  heard  of  one  another  would 
not  have  agreed  in  a tale  which  nothing  but 
experience  can  make  credible.  That  it 
is  doubted  by  single  cavillers  can  very  iittia 
weaken  the  general  evidence;  and  some 
who  deny  it  with  their  tongues  confess  ifc 
by  their  fears. 

‘‘Yet  I do  not  mean  to  add  new  terrors  to 
those  which  have  already  seized  upon  Pe* 
kuah.  There  can  be  no  reason  why  spec- 
ters should  haunt  the  Pyramid  more  than 
other  places,  or  why  they  should  have 
power  or  will  to  hurt  innocence  and  purity. 
Our  entrance  is  no  violation  of  their  priv- 
ileges ; we  can  take  nothing  from  them, 
how  then  can  we  offend  them  ? ” 

“My  dear  Pekuah,”  said  the  princess,  “I 
will  always  go  before  you,  and  Imlac  shall 
follow  you.  Remember  that  you  are  the 
ijompanion  of  the  princess  of  Abyssinia.” 


RASSELAS. 


147 


“If  i/lie  princess  is  pleased  that  her  ser- 
Tant  should  die,”  returned  the  lady,  “let 
her  command  some  death  less  dreadful  than 
enclosure  in  this  horrid  cavern ; you  know  I 
dare  not  disobey  you ; I must  go  if  you  com- 
mand me ; but,  if  I once  enter,  I never  shall 
come  back.” 

The  princess  saw  that  her  fear  was  too 
strong  for  expostulation  or  reproof;  and, 
embracing  her,  told  her  that  she  should  stay 
in  the  tent  till  their  return.  Pekuah  was 
yet  not  satisfied,  but  entreated  the  princess 
not  to  pursue  so  dreadful  a purpose  as  thafc 
of  entering  the  recesses  of  the  Pyramids 
“ Though  I cannot  teach  courage,”  said  Ne- 
kayah,  “I  must  not  learn  cowardice;  nor 
leave  at  last  undone  what  I came  hithr" 
only  to  do,” 


148 


RAfjUm.Afl, 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

They  enter  the  Pyramid. 

Pekuah  descended  to  the  tents,  and  the 
?est  entered  the  Pyramid:  they  passed 
through  the  galleries,  surveyed  the  vaults 
of  marble,  and  examined  the  chest  in  which 
the  body  of  the  founder  is  supposed  to  have 
been  reposited.  They  then  sat  down  in  one 
of  the  most  spacious  chambers  to  rest 
awhile  before  they  attempted  to  return. 

‘‘We  have  now,”  said  Imlac,  “gratified 
our  minds  with  an  exact  view  of  the  great- 
est work  of  man,  except  the  wall  of  China* 

“ Of  the  wall  it  is  very  easy  to  assign  the 
motive.  It  secured  a wealthy  and  timorous 
nation  from  the  incursions  of  barbarians, 
whose  unskillfulness  in  the  arts  made  it 
easier  for  them  to  supply  their  wants  by 
rapine  than  by  industry,  and  who  from  time 
to  time  poured  in  upon  the  habitations  of 
peaceful  commerce,  as  vultures  descend  upon 


RASSELAS, 


149 


domestic  fowl.  Their  celerity  and  fierceness 
rendered  the  wall  necessary,  and  their  igno- 
rance made  it  efiBcacious. 

‘‘  But  for  the^yramids  no  reason  has  ever 
beerrgiven_adequate  to  th^osl^  and  la'horof 
the  work.  The  narrowness  of  the  chambers 
proves  that  it  could  afford  no  retreat  from 
enemies,  and  treasures  might  have  been  re- 
posited  at  far  less  expense  with  equal  seuur- 
ity.  It  seems  to  have  been  erected  only  in 
compliance  wlIKThat  hungS  orimagiriation 
which  pre^sTncessantl^ruponrlifeVl^^^^^^ 
be  always  appeased  by  some  empldylnentl 
Those  who  have  already  all  thatThey  can 
enjoy  must  enlarge  their  desires.  He  that 
has  built  for  use,  till  use  is  supplied,  must 
begin  to  build  for  vanity,  and  extend  his 
plan  to  the  utmost  power  of  human  per- 
formance, that  ho  may  not  be  soon  reduced 
to  form  another  wish. 

‘‘  I j3onsider  this  mighty  structure  as  a 
monument  of  the  insufficiency  ot  humlinr’en-  ^ 
joy^nts.  A king,  whose  power  is  unlimited, 
andwhbse  treasures  surmount  all  real  and 
imaginary  wants,  is  compelled  to  solace,  by 
the  erection  of  a Pyramid,  the  satiety  of 
dominion  and  tastelessness  of  pleasures,  and 


150 


llASSELA.^. 


to  amuse  the  tediousness  of  declining  life, 
by  seeing  thousands  laboring  without  end, 
and  one  stone,  for  no  purpose,  laid  upon 
another.  Whoever  thou  art  that,  not  con- 
tent with  a moderate  condition,  imaginest 
happiness  in  royal  magnificence,  and  dream- 
est  that  command  or  riches  can  feed  the 
appetite  of  novelty  with  perpetual  gratifica- 
tions, survey  the  Pyramids,  and  confess  thy 
folly-’’ 


MASSELA8. 


151 


CHAPTER  XXXIIL 

The  Princess  meets  with  an  unexpected  Misfortune. 

They  rose  np,  and  returned  through  the 
cavity  at  which  they  had  entered,  and  the 
princess  prepared  for  her  favorite  a long 
narrative  of  dark  labyrinths  and  costly 
rooms,  and  of  the  different  impressions 
which  the  varieties  of  the  way  had  made 
upon  her.  But  when  they  came  to  their 
train,  they  found  every  one  silent  and  de- 
jected ; the  men  discovered  shame  and  fear 
in  their  countenances,  and  the  women  were 
weeping  in  the  tents. 

What  had  happened  they  did  not  try 
to  conjecture,  but  immediately  inquired. 
“You  had  scarcely  entered  into  the  Pyra- 
mid,” said  one  of  the  attendants,  “when  a 
troop  of  Arabs  rushed  upon  us  : we  were 
too  few  to  resist  them,  and  too  slow  to 
escape.  They  were  about  to  search  the 
texts,  set  us  on  our  camels,  and  drive  ua 


152 


BASSELAS. 


along  before  them,  when  the  approach  of 
some  Turkish  horsemen  put  them  to  flight ; 
hut  they  seized  the  lady  Pekuah  with  her 
two  maids,  and  carried  her  away ; the  Turks 
are  now  pursuing  them  by  our  instigation, 
but  I fear  they  will  not  be  able  to  overtake 
them.” 

The  princess  was  overpowered  with  sur- 
prise and  grief.  Rasselas,  in  the  first  heat 
of  his  resentment,  ordered  his  servants  to 
follow  him,  and  prepared  to  pursue  the 
robbers  with  his  saber  in  his  hand.  “ Sir,” 
said  Imlac,  ‘‘  what  can  you  hope  from  vio- 
lence or  valor  ? the  Arabs  are  mounted  on 
horses  trained  to  battle  and  retreat ; weh^ve 
only  beasts  of  burden.  By  leaving  our  pres- 
ent station  we  may  lose  the  princess,  but 
cannot  hope  to  regain  Pekuah.” 

In  a short  time  the  Turks  returned,  haivng 
ot  been  able  to  reach  the  enemy.  The  prin- 
cess burst  out  into  new  lamentations,  and  Ras- 
Iselas  could  scarcely  forbear  to  reproach  them 
with  cowardice ; but  Imlac  was  of  opinion 
that  the  escape  of  the  Arabs  was  no  addition 
to  their  misfortune,  for  perhaps  they  would 
have  killed  their  captives  rather  than  have 
resigned  them. 


BASSELAS. 


153 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

They  return  to  Cairo  without  Pekuah. 

There  was  nothing  to  be  hoped  from 
longer  stay.  They  returned  to  Cairo,  repent- 
ing of  their  curiosity,  censuring  the  negli- 
gence of  the  government,  lamenting  their 
own  rashness,  which  had  neglected  to  pro- 
cure a guard,  imagining  many  expedients  by 
which  the  loss  of  Pekuah  might  have  been 
prevented,  and  resolving  to  do  something 
for  her  recovery,  though  none  could  find 
anything  proper  to  be  done. 

Xekayah  retired  to  her  chamber,  where 
her  women  attempted  to  comfort  her,  by 
telling  her  that  all  had  their  troubles,  and 
that  lady  Pekuah  had  enjoyed  much  happi- 
ness in  the  world  for  a long  time,  and  might 
reasonably  expect  a change  of  fortune. 
They  hoped  that  some  good  would  befall 
her  wheresoever  she  was,  and  that  their 
mistress  would  find  another  friend  who 
might  supply  her  place. 


154 


BASSELAS. 


The  princess  made  them  no  answer,  and 
they  continued  the  form  of  condolence,  not 
much  grieved  in  their  hearts  that  the  fa- 
vorite was  lost. 

Next  day  the  prince  presented  to  the 
Bassa  a memorial  of  the  wrong  which  he 
had  suffered,  and  a petition  for  redress. 
The  Bassa,  threatened  to  punish  the  robbers, 
but  did  not  attempt  to  catch  them,  nor  in- 
deed could  any  account  or  description  be 
given  by  which  he  might  direct  the  pursuit. 

It  soon  appeared  that  nothing  would  be 
done  by  authority.  Governors  being  ac- 
customed to  hear  of  more  crimes  than  they 
can  punish,  and  more  Avrongs  than  they  can 
redress,  set  themselves  at  ease  by  indis- 
criminate negligence,  and  presently  forget 
the  request  when  they  lose  sight  of  the 
petitioner. 

Imlac  then  endeavored  to  gain  some  in- 
telligence by  private  agents.  He  found  many 
who  pretended  to  an  exact  knowledge  of  all 
the  haunts  of  the  Arabs,  and  to  regular  cor- 
respondence with  their  chiefs,  and  who  read- 
ily undertook  the  recovery  of  Pekuah.  Of 
these,  some  were  furnished  with  money  for 
their  Journey  and  came  back  no  more  ; 


RASSELAS. 


155 


gome  were  liberally  paid  for  accounts  which 
a few  days  discovered  to  be  false.  But  the 
princess  would  not  suffer  any  means,  how- 
ever improbable,  to  be  left  untried.  While 
she  w^s  doing  something,  she  kept  her  hope 
ahve.  As  one  expedient  failed,  another  was 
suggested;  when  one  messenger  returned 
unsuccessful,  another  was  despatched  to  a 
different  quarter. 

Two  months  had  now  passed,  and  of 
Pekuah  nothing  had  been  heard ; the  hopes 
which  they  had  endeavored  to  raise  in  each 
other  grew  more  languid ; and  the  princess, 
when  she  saw  nothing  more  to  be  tried, 
sunk  down  inconsolable  in  hopeless  dejectioa 
A thousand  times  she  reproached  herself 
with  the  easy  compliance  by  which  she  per- 
mitted her  favorite  to  stay  behind  her. 
^ Had  not  my  fondness,”  said  she,  ‘‘  lessened 
my  authority,  Pekuah  had  not  dared  to  talk 
of  her  terrors.  She  ought  to  have  feared  me 
more  than  specters.  A severe  look  would 
have  overpowered  her ; a peremptory  com- 
mand would  have  compelled  obedience. 
Why  did  foolish  indulgence  prevail  upon 
me  ? Why  did  I not  speak,  and  refuse  to 
hear?” 


156 


RASSELAS. 


Great  princess,”  said  Imlac,  do  not  re- 
proach yourself  for  your  virtue,  or  consider 
that  as  blamable  by  which  evil  has  acci- 
dentally been  caused.  Your  tenderness  for 
the  timidity  of  Pekuah  was  generous  and 
kind.  When  we  act  according  to  our  duty, 
we  commit  the  event  to  Him  by  whose  laws 
oiiFabTib^n^aregoverned^  and  who  will  suffer 
none  to  be  finally  punished  for  obedience. 
When,  in  prospe'ct  of  some''“gobd,  whetlier 
natural  or  moral,  we  break  the  rules  pre- 
scribed us,  we  withdraw  from  the  direction 
of  superior  wisdom,  and  take  all  conse- 
quences upon  ourselves.  Man  cannot  so 
far  know  the  connection  of  causes  and 
events,  as  that  he  may  venture  to  do  wrong 
in  order  to  do  right.  When  we  pursue  our 
end  by  lawful  means,  we  may  always  con- 
sole our  miscarriage  by  the  hope  of  future 
recompense.  When  we  consult  only  our 
own  policy,  and  attempt  to  find  a nearer 
way  to  good,  by  overleaping  the  settled 
boundaries  of  right  and  wrong,  we  cannot 
be  happy  even  by  success,  because  w'e  can- 
not escape  the  consciousness  of  our  fault: 
but,  if  we  miscarry,  the  disappointment  is 
irremediably  embittered.  How  comfortless 


BASSELAS 


157 


is  the  soii*ow  of  him  who  feels  at  once  the 
pangs  of  guilt,  and  the  vexation  of  calamity 
winch  guilt  has  brought  upon  him ! 

‘^Consider,  prmcess,  what  would  have 
been  your  condition,  if  the  lady  Pekuah  had 
entreated  to  accompany  you,  and,  being 
compelled  to  stay  in  the  tents,  had  been 
carried  away;  or  how  you  would  have 
borne  the  thought  if  you  had  forced  her  into 
the  Pyramid,  and  she  had  died  before  you  in 
aTOuies  of  terror?” 

O 

“Had  either  happened,”  said  ISTekayah, 
“I  could  not  have  endured  life  till  now:  I 
should  have  been  tortured  to  madness  by 
the  remembrance  of  such  cruelty,  or  must 
have  pined  away  in  abhorrence  of  my- 
self” 

“This,  at  least,”  said  Imlac,  “is  the 
present^  reward  of  virtuous  cojiduct,  that 
no  unlucky  consequence  can  oblige  us  to 
repent  it.”  ^ 


158 


BASSELAa. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

Princess  languishes  for  want  of  Pekuah. 

Nekayah,  being  thus  reconciled  to  her- 
self,  found  that  no  evil  is  insupportaMnbufc- 
that  which  io  accompanied  with  consciousness 
of  wroii^  She  was  from  that  time  delivered 
from  the  violence  of  tempestuous  sorrow^ 
and  sunk  into  silent  pensiveness  and  gloomy 
tranquillity.  She  sat  from  morning  to 
evening  recollecting  all  that  had  been  dono 
or  said  by  her  Pekuah,  treasured  up  with 
care  every  trifle  on  which  Pekuah  had  set 
an  accidental  value,  and  wliich  might  recall 
to  mind  any  little  incident  or  careless  con-. 
Tersation.  The  sentiments  of  her,  whom 
she  now  expected  to  see  no  more,  were 
treasured  in  her  memory  as  rules  of  life,  and 
she  deliberated  to  no  other  end  than  to  con- 
jecture on  any  occasion  what  would  have 
been  the  opinion  and  counsel  oi  Pekuah. 

The  woman  by  whom  she  was  attended 


nASSELAS. 


159 


knew*  nothing  of  her  real  condition,  and  " 
therefore  she  could  not  talk  to  them  but 
with  caution  and  reserve.  She  began  to  j ^ « 
remit  her  curiosity,  having  no  great  desire^ 
to  collect  notions  which  she  had  not  con- 
venience  of  uttering.  Rasselas  endeavored  ^ 
first  to  comfort,  and  afterwards  to  divertit-^"'^ 
her;  he  hired  musicians,  to  whom  she/ 
geemed  to  listen,  but  did  not  hear  them; 
and  procured  masters  to  instruct  her  in 
Tarious  arts,  whose  lectures,  when  they 
Tisited  her  again,  were  again  to  be  repeated. 

She  had  lost  her  taste  of  pleasure  and  her 
ambition  of  excellence.  And  her  mind, 
though  forced  into  short  excursions,  always 
recurred  to  the  image  of  her  friend. 


Imlac  was  every  morning  earnestly  ea^ 
joined  to  renew  his  inquiries,  and  was  asked 
every  night  whether  he  had  yet  heard  of 
Pekuah,  till,  not  being  able  to  return  the 
princess  the  answer  that  she  desired,  he 
was  less  and  less  willing  to  come  into  her 
presence.  She  observed  his  backwardness, 
and  commanded  him  to  attend  her.  You 
are  not,”  said  she,  “ to  confound  impatience 
with  resentment,  or  to  suppose  that  I charge 
you  with  negligence,  because  I repine  at 


160 


BASSELAS. 


your  unsuccessfulness.  I do  not  much 
wonder  at  your  absence : I know  that  the 
unhappy  are  never  pleasing,  and  that  all 
naturally  avoid  the  contagion  of  misery. 
To  hear  complaints  is  wearisome  alike  to  the 
wretched  and  the  happy;  for  who  would 
cloud,  by  adventitious  grief,  the  short 
gleams  of  gayety  which  life  allows  us  ? or 
v/ho,  that  is  struggling  under  his  own  evils^ 
wdll  add  to  them  the  miseries  of  another?  ” 
‘‘The  time  is  at  hand  when  none  shall 
be  disturbed  any  longer  by  the  sighs  of 
ISekayali:  my  search  after  happiness  is  now 
at  an  end.  I am  resolved  to  retire  fromTTie 
world  with  all  its  flatteries  and  deceits,  and 
will  lird(rm^eTriur"s(flEude^^^^y 
other  care  than  to  compose  my  thoughts, 
and  regulate  my  houTs  byajconstanf  suo 
cessroii  of Tnnocent  occupations,  till^with  a 
mind  purified  from  all  earthly  desires,  I 
shall  enter  into  thaFsf^^o  tc)  which  all'  are 
hastening,  and  in  which  I hope  again  to 
enjoy  the  friendslfixLOfJ^elvuak” 

“Do  not  entangle  your  mind,”  said  Imlac, 
“ by  irrevocable  determinations,  nor  increase 
the  burden  of  life  by  a voluntary  accumu- 
lation of  misery:  the  wearin<^>is  of  retire- 


BASSELAS, 


161 


ment  will  continue  or  increase  when  the  loss 
of  Pekuah  is  forgotten.  That  you  have 
been  deprived  of  one  pleasuio  is  no  irery 
good  reason  for  rejection  of  the  rest.” 

“ Since  Pekuah  was  taken  from  me,”  said 
the  princess,  “ I have  no  pleasure  to  reject 
or  to  retain.  She  that  has  no  one  to  love 
or  trust  ha^littl^{o~Tiope7  She  wants  the 
radical  principle  of  happiness.  We  may, 
perhaps,  allow,  that  what  satisfaction  this 
world  can  afford  must  arise  from  the  com 
junction  of  wealth,  knowledge,  and  good- 
ness:  wealth  is  nothing  but  as  it  is  be- 
stowed, and  knowledge  nothing  but  as  it 
is  communicated:  they  must  therefore  be 
imparted  to  others,  and  to  whom  could  I now 
delight  to  impart  them  ? Goodness  affords 
the  only  comfort  which  can  be  enjoyed 
without  a partner  and  goodness  may  be 
practiced  in  retirement.” 

“ How  far  solitude  may  admit  goodness, 
or  advance  it,  I shall  not,”  replied  Imiac, 
“dispute  at  present.  Remember  the  con- 
fession of  the  pious  hermit.  You  will  wdsh 
to  return  into  the  world  when  the  image  of 
your  companion  has  left  your  thoughts.” 

“That  time,”  said  Nekayah,  “will  never 

11 


162 


BASSELAS. 


come.  The  generous  frankness,  the  modest 
obsequiousness,  and  the  faithful  secrecy  of 
my  dear  Pekuah  will  always  be  more  missed 
as  I shall  live  longer  to  see  vice  and  folly.” 

“The  state  of  a mind  oppressed  with  a 
sudden  calamity,”  said  Imlac,  “i^like  that 


the  fabulous  inhabitants  of  the  new- 


created  earth,  who,  whefTThe  first  night 
came  upon  them,  supposed  that  day  would 
never  returm  When  the  clouds  of  sorrow 
gather  over  us,  we  see  nothing  beyond  them, 
nor  can  imagine  how  they  will  be  dispelled  : 
yet  a new  day  succeeded  to  the  night,  and 
sorrow  is  never  long  without  a dawn  of 
ease.  But  they  who  restrain  themselves 
from  receiving  comfort  do  as  the  savages 
would  have  done,  had  they  put  out  their 
eyes  when  it  was  dark.  Our  minds,  like 
our  bodies,  are  in  continual  fiux;  some- 
thing is  hourly  lost,  and  something  acquired. 
To  lose  much  at  once  is  inconvenient  to 
either,  but  while  the  vital  powers  remain 
uninjured  nature  will  find  the  means  of 
reparation.  Distance  has  the  same  effect 
on  the  mind  as  oii  theleye : and  while  we 
glide  along  the  stream  bf  time,  whatever 
we  leave  behind  us  is  always  lessening,  and 


BASSELAS. 


163 


that  which  we  approach  increasing  in  mag- 
nitude. ]Qojppt  suffer  life  to  stagnate;  it 
will  grow  muddy  for  want  of  ni6ti6h7~com-> 
mit  yourself  again  to  the  current  of  the 
world ; Pekuah  will  vanish  by  degrees ; you 
will  meet  in  your  way  some  other  favorite, 
or  learn  to  diffuse  yourself  in  general  con- 
versation.” 

At  least,”  said  the  prince,  do  not  de- 
spair before  all  remedies  have  been  tried ; the 
inquiry  after  the  unfortunate  lady  is  still 
continued,  and  shall  be  carried  on  with  yet 
greater  diligence,  on  condition  that  you  will 
promise  to  wait  a year  for  the  event,  with- 
out any  unalterable  resolution.” 

Nekayah  thought  this  a reasonable  de- 
mand, and  made  the  promise  to  her  brother, 
who  had  been  advised  by  Imlac  to  require 
it.  Imlac  had,  indeed,  no  great  hope  of 
regaining  Pekuah  ; but  he  supposed,  that  if 
he  could  secure  the  interval  of  a year,  the 
princess  would  then  be  in  no  danger  of  a 
cloister. 


164 


BASSELA3. 


CHAPTER  XXXVX 

Peknah  is  still  remembered.  The  progress  of  Sorrow. 

\ Kekayah,  seeing  that  nothing  was  omitted 
for  the  recovery  of  her  favorite,  and  having, 
by  her  promise,  set  her  intention  of  retire- 
ment at  a distance,  began  imperceptibly 
to  return  to  common  cares  and  common 
pleasures.  She  rejoiced  without  her  own 
consent  at  the  suspension  of  her  sorrows, 
and  sometimes  caught  herself  with  indigna- 
tion in  the  act  of  turning  away  her  mind 
from  the  remembrance  of  her,  whom  she 
yet  resolved  never  to  forget. 

She  then  appointed  a certain  hour  of  the 
day  for  meditation  on  the  merits  and  fond- 
ness of  Pekuah,  and  for  some  weeks  retired 
constantly  at  the  time  fixed,  and  returned 
with  her  eyes  swollen  and  her  countenance 
clouded.  By  degrees  she  grew  less  scrup- 
lous,  and  suffered  any  important  and  press- 
ing avocation  to  delay  the  tribute  of  daily 


HASSELAS. 


165 

tears.  She’  then  yielded  to  less  occasions ; 
sometimes  forgot  what  she  was  indeed  afraid 
to  remember,  and  at  last  wholly  released 
herself  from  the  duty  of  periodical  aflliction. 

Her  real  love  of  Pekuah  was  not  yet 
diminished.  A thousand  occurrences  brought 
her  back  to  memory,  and  a thousand  wants, 
which  nothing  but  the  confidence  of  friend- 
ship can  supply,  made  her  frequently  re- 
gretted. She  therefore  solicited  Imlac  never 
to  desist  from  inquiry,  and  to  leave  no  art 
of  intelligence  untried,  that  at  least  she 
might  have  the  comfort  of  knowing  that  she 
did  not  suffer  by  negligence  or  sluggishness. 
‘‘Yet  what,”  said  she,  “ is  to  be  expected 
from  our  pursuit  of  happiness,  when  we  find 
the  state  of  life  to  be  such,  that  happiness 
itself  is  the  cause  of  misery  ? Why  should 
we  endeavor  to  attaiil  that  of  which  the 
possession  cannot  be  secured.  I shall  hence- 
forward fear  to  yield  my  heart  to  excellence, 
however  bright,  or  to  fondness,  however 
tender,  lest  I should  lose  again  what  1 have 
lost  in  Pekuah.” 


xm 


EASSELAS. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIL 

The  Princess  hears  news  of  Pekuah. 

seven  months,  one  of  the  messengers, 
who  had  been  sent  away  upon  the  day  when 
the  promise  was  drawn  from  the  princess, 
returned,  after  many  unsuccessful  rambles, 
from  the  borders  of  Nubia,  with  an  account 
that  Pekuah  was  in  the  hand  of  an  Arab 
chief,  who  possessed  a castle  or  fortress  on 
the  extremity  of  Egypt.  The  Arab,  whose 
revenue  was  plunder,  was  willing  to  restore 
her  with  her  two  attendants,  for  two  hun- 
dred  ounces  of  gold. 

The  price  was  no  subject  of  debate.  The 
princess  was  in  ecstasies  when  she  heard 
that  her  favorite  was  alive,  and  might  so 
cheaply  be  ransomed.  She  could  not  think 
of  delaying  for  a moment  Pekuah’s  happi- 
ness or  her  own,  but  entreated  her  brother 
to  send  back  the  messenger  with  the  sum  re- 
qubed.  Imlac  being  consulted  was  not  very 


EASSELAS. 


167 


confident  of  the  veracity  of  the  relator,  and 
was  still  more  doubtful  of  the  Arab’s  faith, 
who  might,  if  he  were  too  liberally  trusted, 
detain  at  once  the  money  and  the  captives* 
He  thought  it  dangerous  to  put  themselves  in 
the  power  of  the  Arab,  by  going  into  his 
district,  and  could  not  expect  that  the  rover 
would  so  much  expose  himself  as  to  come 
into  the  lower  country,  where  he  might  be 
seized  by  the  forces  of  the  Bassa. 

It  is  difiicult  to  negotiate  where  neither 
will  trust.  But  Imlac,  after  some  delibera- 
tion, directed  the  messenger  to  propose  that 
Pekuah  should  be  conducted  by  ten  horse- 
men to  the  monastery  of  St.  Antony,  which 
is  situated  in  the  deserts  of  Upper  Egypt, 
where  she  should  be  met  by  the  same  num- 
ber, and  her  ransom  should  be  paid. 

That  no  time  might  be  lost,  as  they  ex- 
pected that  the  proposal  would  not  be  re- 
fused, they  immediately  began  their  journey 
to  the  monastery  ; and  when  they  arrived, 
Ilmac  went  forward  with  the  former  mes- 
senger to  the  Arab’s  fortress.  Rasselas  was 
desirous  to  go  with  them ; but  neither  his 
sister  nor  Imlac  would  consent.  The  Arab, 
according  to  the  custom  of  his  nation, 


168 


RAS8ELAS. 


observed  the  laws  of  hospitality  with  great 
exactness  to  those  who  put  themselves  into 
his  power,  and,  in  a few  days  brought  Pekuah 
with  her  maids,  by  easy  journeys,  to  the  place 
appointed,  where,  receiving  the  stipulated 
price,  he  restored  her  with  great  respect  to 
liberty  and  her  friends,  and  undertook  to 
conduct  them  back  towards  Cairo,  beyond 
all  danger  of  robbery  or  violence. 

The  princess  and  her  favorite  embraced 
each  other  with  transport  too  violent  to  be 
expressed,  and  went  out  together  to  pour 
the  tears  of  tenderness  in  secret,  and  ex- 
change professions  of  kindness  and  grati- 
tude. After  a few  hours  they  returned  into 
the  refectory  of  the  convent,  where,  in  the 
presence  of  the  prior  and  his  brethren,  the 
prince  required  of  Pekuah  the  history  of 
her  adventured* 


iSKLiA. 


169 


CHAPTER  XXXVm^ 


The  adventures  of  the  Lady  Pekualu 

“ At  what  time  and  in  what  manner  I was 
forced  away,”  said  Pekuah,  your  servants 
have  told  you.  The  suddenness  of  the 
event  struck  me  with  surprise,  and  I was  at 
first  rather  stupefied  than  agitated  with  any 
passion  of  either  fear  or  sorrow.  My  con- 
fusion was  increased  by  the  speed  and 
tumult  of  our  flight,  while  we  were  followed 
by  the  Turks,  who,  as  it  seemed,  soon  de- 
spaired to  overtake  us,  or  were  afraid  of 
those  whom  they  made  a show  of  men- 
acing. 

“ When  the  Arabs  saw  themselves  out  of 
danger  they  slackened  their  course,  and  as 
I was  less  harassed  by  external  violence,  I 
began  to  feel  more  uneasiness  in  my  mind. 
After  some  time  we  stopped  near  a spring, 
shaded  with  trees,  in  a pleasanf'meadow, 
where  we  were  set  upon  the  ground,  and 


170 


EASSELAS. 


offered  such  refreshments  as  our  masters 
were  partaking.  1 was  suffered  to  sit  with 
my  maids  apart  from  the  rest,  and  none 
attempted  to  comfort  or  insult  us.  Here  I 
first  began  to  feel  the  full  weight  of  my 
misery.  The  girls  sat  weeping  in  silence, 
and  from  time  to  time  looked  on  me  for  suc- 
cor. I knew  not  to  what  condition  we  were 
doomed,  nor  could  conjecture  where  would 
be  the  place  of  our  captivity,  or  whence  to 
draw  any  hope  of  deliverance.  I was  in  the 
hands  of  robbers  and  savages  and  had  no 
reason  to  suppose  that  their  pity  was  more 
than  their  justice,  or  that  they  would  for- 
bear the  gratification  of  any  ardor  of  desire 
or  caprice  of  cruelty.  1,  however,  kissed  my 
maids,  and  endeavored  to  pacify  them  by 
remarking,  that  we  were  yet  treated  with 
decency,  and  that,  since  we  were  now  car- 
ried beyond  pursuit,  there  was  no  danger  of 
violence  to  our  lives. 

‘‘  When  we  were  to  be  set  again  on  horse- 
back, my  maids  clung  round  me,  and  refused 
to  be  parted,  but  I commanded  them  not  to 
irritate  those  who  had  us  in  their  power. 
We  traveled  the  remaining  part  of  the  day 
through  an  unfrequented  and  pathless  coun- 


BASSELAS, 


171 


try,  and  came  by  moonlight  to  the  side  of  a 
hill,  where  the  rest  of  the  troop  was  sta- 
tioned. Their  tents  were  pitched  and  their 
fires  kindled,  and  our  chief  was  welcomed 
as  a man  much  beloved  by  his  dependants. 

“We  were  received  into  a large  tent, 
where  we  found  women  who  had  attended 
their  husbands  in  the  expedition.  They  set 
before  us  the  supper  which  they  had  pro- 
vided, and  I ate  it  rather  to  encourage  my 
maids  than  to  comply  with  any  appetite  of 
my  own.  When  the  meat  was  taken  away 
they  spread  the  carpets  for  repose.  I was 
weary,  and  hoped  to  find  in  sleep  that  re- 
mission of  distress  which  nature  seldom 
denies.  Ordering  myself  therefore  to  be 
undressed,  I observed  that  the  women 
looked  very  earnestly  upon  me,  not  expect- 
ing, I suppose,  to  see  me  so  submissively 
attended.  When  my  upper  vest  was  taken 
off,  they  were  apparently  struck  with  the 
splendor  of  my  clothes,  and  one  of  them 
timorously  laid  her  hand  upon  the  embroid- 
ery. She  then  went  out,  and  in  a short  time 
came  back  with  another  woman,  who  seemed 
to  be  of  higher  rank  and  greater  authority. 
She  did,  at  her  entrance,  the  usual  act  of 


172 


BASSELAS, 


reverence,  and,  taking  me  by  the  hand, 
placed  me  in  a smaller  tent,  spread  with 
finer  carpets,  where  I spent  the  night  quietly 
with  my  maids. 

In  the  morning,  as  I was  sitting  on  the 
grass,  the  chief  of  the  troop  came  towards 
me.  I rose  up  to  receive  him,  and  he 
bowed  with  great  respect.  ‘ Illustrious 
lady,’  said  he,  ‘ my  fortune  is  better  than  I 
had  presumed  to  hope;  I am  told  by  my 
women,  that  I have  a princess  in  my  camp.* 
— ‘ Sir,  answered  I,  ‘ your  women  have 
deceived  themselves  and  you;  I am  not  a 
princess,  but  an  unhappy  stranger  who  in- 
tended soon  to  have  left  this  country,  in 
which  I am  now  to  be  imprisoned  forever.* 
— ‘ Whoever,  or  v/hencesoever  you  are,’  re- 
turned the  Arab,  ‘ your  dress,  and  that  of 
your  servants,  show  your  rank  to  be  higli^ 
and  your  wealth  to  be  great.  Why  should 
you,  who  can  so  easily  procure  your  ransom, 
think  yourself  in  danger  of  perpetual  cap- 
tivity ? The  purpose  of  my  incursions  is  to 
increase  my  riches,  or,  more  properly,  to 
gather  tribute.  The  sons  of  Ishmael  are  the 
natural  and  hereditary  lords  of  this  part  of 
the  continent,  which  is  usurped  by  late 


HASSELAS. 


in 


invaders  and  low-born  tyrants,  from  whom 
we  are  compelled  to  take  by  the  sword  what 
is  denied  to  justice.  The  violence  of  war 
admits  no  distinction ; the  lance,  that  is 
lifted  at  guilt  and  power,  will  sometimes 
fall  on  innocence  and  gentleness.’ 

“ ‘ How  little,’  said  I,  ‘ did  I expect  that 
yesterday  it  should  have  fallen  upon  me ! ’ 
Misfortunes,’  answered  the  Arab, 
‘should  always  be  expected.  If  the  eye  of 
hostility  could  learn  reverence  or  pity,  ex- 
cellence like  yours  had  been  exempt  from 
injury.  But  the  angels  of  affliction  spread 
their  toils  alike  for  the  virtuous  and  the 
wicked,  for  the  mighty  and  the  mean.  Do 
not  be  disconsolate : I am  not  one  of  the 
lawless  and  cruel  rovers  of  the  desert ; I 
know  the  rules  of  civil  life  : I will  fix  your 
ransom,  give  a passport  to  your  messenger, 
and  perform  my  stipulation  with  nice  punc- 
tuality.’ 

“ You  will  easily  believe  that  I was 
ple^jd_wr^lns  courtesy : and,  finding  that 
"Ei^predominant  passion  was  desire  of  money, 
I began  now  to  think  my  danger  less,  for  I 
knew  that  no  sum  would  be  thought  too 
great  for  the  release  of  Pekuah.  I told  him 


174 


UASSELAS 


that  he  should  have  no  reason  to  charge  me 
with  ingratitude,  if  I was  used  with  kind- 
ness, and  that  any  ransom  which  could  be 
expected  from  a maid  of  common  rank, 
would  be  paid,  but  that  he  must  not  persist# 
to  rate  me  as  a princess.  He  said  he  would 
consider  what  he  should  demand,  and  then, 
smiling,  bowed  and  retired. 

Soon  after  the  women  came  about  me, 
each  contending  to  be  more  officious  than 
the  other,  and  my  maids  themselves  were 
served  with  reverence.  We  traveled  on- 
ward by  short  journeys.  On  the  fourth  day 
the  chief  told  me,  that  niy  j;ansom  niu^  be 
two  lumdred  ounces  of  gold; jwHich  I not 
only  promised  him,  but  told  him  that  I 
would  adJTSfty^^m  if  I and  my  maids 
WQ^  honorabiyTreatedr~^~ 

iTiever  knewTK  power  of  gold  before. 
From^at^^in^^  I was  the  leader  of  the  troop. 
The  march  of  every  day  was  lohgeFor  shorter 
as  I commanded,  and  the  tents  were  pitched 
where  I chose  to  rest.  We  now  had  camels 
and  other  conveniences  for  travel,  my  own 
women  were  always  at  my  side,  and  I 
amused  myself  with  observing  the  manners 
of  the  vagrant  nations,  and  with  viewing 


HAS.^ELAS. 


175 


remains  of  ancient  edifices,  with  which  these 
deserted  countries  appear  to  have  been,  in 
some  distant  age,  lavishly  embellished. 

‘‘The  chief  of  the  band  was.  a man  far 
from  iiiiterate : Ee  was  able  to  travel  by  the 
stars  or  the  compass,  and  had  marked,  in 
his  erratic  expeditions,  such  places  as  are 
most  worthy  the  notice  of  a passenger.  He 
obsgrvecLto  me,_that  buildjng;s_are  alW^ys^ 
best  preserved  in  places  little  frequented 
and  difficult  of  access  Ptdr,"“when  nnce  a 
countf^dedfin^s  from  it^primitive  splendor, 
the  more  inhabitants  are  left,  the  quicker 
ruin  will  be  made.  Walls  supply  stones 
more  easily  than  quarries,  and  palaces  and 
temples  will  be  demolished,  to  make  stables 
of  granite,  and  cottages  of  porphyry.’’ 


176 


UJj.A.  /S» 


CHAPTER  xxxrx:. 

The  Adventures  of  Pekuah  continued. 

We  wandered  about  in  this  manner  foi 
some  weeks,  whether,  as  our  chief  pretended, 
for  my  gratification,  or,  as  I rather  sus- 
pected, for  some  convenience  of  his  own.  I 
endeavored  to  appear  contented  where  sul- 
lenness and  resentment  would  have  been  of 
no  use,  and  that  endeavor  conduced  much 
to  the  calmness  of  my  mind ; but  my  heart 
Was  always  with  Nekayah,  and  the  troubles 
Df  the  night  much  overbalanced  the  amuse- 
ments of  the  day.  My  vromen,  who  threw 
all  their  cares  upon  their  mistress,  set  their 
minds  at  ease  from  the  time  when  they  saw 
me  treated  with  respect,  and  gave  them- 
selves up  to  the  incidental  alleviations  of 
our  fatigue  without  solicitude  or  sorrow.  I 
was  pleased  with  their  pleasure,  and  ani- 
mated with  their  confidence.  My  condition 
had  lost  much  of  its  terror,  since  I found 
that  the  Arab  ranged  the  country  merely  ^ 


HASSELAS, 


n-A 

for  riches.  Avari^  is  a uniform  and  tracfeV  \ 
able^icer  other  intellectual  distempers  are  \ 
different  in  different  constitutions  of  mind ; 
that  which  soothes  the  pride  of  one  will  of-  j 
fend  the  pride  of  another  ; but-to  the  favor  / 
ofj^he  covetous  there  is  a__ready  wayjjbring  ^ 
money^-audlnothing  is  denied.  / 

“ At  last  we  came  to  the  dwelling  of  ouf 
chief,  a strong  and  spacious  house  built  with 
stone  in  an  island  of  the  ISTile,  which  lies,  as 
I was  told,  under  the  tropic.  ‘ Lady,’  said 
the  Arab,  ‘you  shall  rest  after  your  journey 
a few  weeks  in  this  place,  where  you  are  to 
consider  yourself  as  sovereign.  My  occupa- 
tion is  war:  I have  therefore  chosen  this 
obscure  residence,  from  which  I can  issue 
unexpected,  and  to  which  I can  retire  un- 
pursued. You  may  now  repose  in  security : 
here  are  few  pleasures,  but  here  is  no  daix- 
ger.’  He  then  led  me  into  the  inner  apart- 
ments, and,  seating  me  on  the  richest  couch, 
bowed  to  the  ground.  Ills  women,  who 
considered  me  as  a rival,  looked  on  me  with 
malignity  ; but  being  soon  informed  that  I 
was  a great  lady  detained  only  for  my  ran- 
som, they  began  to  vie  with  each  other  ia 
obsequiousness  and  reverence. 

12 


178 


BASSELAS. 


Being  again  comforted  with  new  assur- 
ances of  speedy  liberty,  I was  for  some  days 
diverted  from  impatience  by  the  novelty  of 
the  place.  The  turrets  overlooked  the  coun- 
try to  a great  distance,  and  afforded  a view 
of  many  windings  of  the  stream.  In  the 
day  I wandered  from  one  place  to  another, 
as  the  course  of  the  sun  varied  the  splendor 
of  the  prospect,  and  saw  many  things  which 
I had  never  seen  before.  The  crocodiles  and 
river-horses  are  common  in  this  unpeopled 
region,  and  I often  looked  upon  them  with 
terror,  though  I knew  that  they  could  not 
hurt  me.  For  some  time  I expected  to  see 
mermaids  and  tritons,  which,  as  Imlac  has 
told  me,  the  European  travelers  have  sta- 
tioned in  the  Nile ; but  no  such  beings  ever 
appeared,  and  the  Arab,  when  I inquired 
after  them,  laughed  at  my  credulity. 

At  night  the  Arab  always  attended  me 
to  a tower  set  apart  for  celestial  observa- 
tions, where  he  endeavored  to  teach  me  the 
names  and  courses  of  the  stars.  I had  no 
great  inclination  to  this  study,  but  an  ap- 
pearance of  attention  was  necessary  to 
please  my  instructor,  who  valued  himself 
for  his  skill ; and,  in  a little  while,  I found 


BASSELAS, 


179 


some  employment  requisite  to  beguile  the 
tediousness  of  time,  which  was  to  be  passed 
always  amidst  the  same  objects.  I was 
weary  of  looking  in  the  morning  on  things 
from  which  I had  turned  away  weary  in  the 
evening ; I therefore  was  at  last  willing  to 
observe  the  stars  rather  than  do  nothing, 
but  could  not  always  compose  my  thoughts^ 
and  was  very  often  thinking  on  Nekayah, 
when  others  imagined  me  contemplating 
the  sky.  Soon  after  the  Arab  went  upon 
another  expedition,  and  then  my  only 
pleasure  was  to  talk  with  my  maids  about 
the  accident  by  which  we  were  carried 
away,  and  the  happiness  that  v/e  should  all 
-enjoy  at  the  end  of  our  captivity.” 

There  were  women  in  your  Arab’s  for- 
tress,” said  the  princess,  why  did  you  not 
make  them  your  companions,  enjoy  their 
conversation,  and  pertake  their  diversions  ? 
In  a place  where  they  found  business  or 
amusement,  why  should  you  alone  sit 
corroded  with  idle  melancholy?  or  why 
could  not  you  bear  for  a few  months  that 
condition  to  which  they  were  condemned  for 
life?” 

‘‘  The  diversions  of  the  women,”  an* 


180 


BASSELAS. 


swered  Pekuah,  “ were  only  childish  play,  by 
which  the  mind,  accustomed  to  stronger 
operations,  could  not  be  kept  busy.  I could 
do  all  which  they  delighted  in  doing  by 
powers  merely  sensitive,  while  my  mtel 
lectual  faculties  were  flown  to  Cairo.  They 
ran  from  room  to  room,  as  a bird  hops  from 
wire  to  wire  in  his  cage.  They  danced  for 
the  sake  of  motion,  as  lambs  frisk  in  a 
meadow.  One  sometimes  pretended  to  be 
hurt,  that  the  rest  might  be  alarmed ; or  hid 
herself,  that  another  might  seek.  Part  of 
their  time  passed  in  watching  the  progress 
of  light  bodies  that  floated  on  the  river,  and 
part  in  marking  the  various  forms  into 
which  clouds  broke  in  the  sky. 

“ Their  business  was  only  needlework,  in 
which  I and  my  maids  sometimes  helped 
them;  but  you  know  that  the  mind  will 
easily  straggle  from  the  Angers,  nor  will  you 
suspect  that  captivity  and  absence  from 
Nekayah  could  receive  solace  from  silken 
flowers. 

“Nor  was  much  satisfaction  to  be  hoped 
from  their  conversation  ; for  of  what  could 
they  be  expected  to  talk  ? They  had  seen 
nothing : for  they  had  lived  from  early  youth 


BASSELAS. 


181 


in  that  narrow  spot : of  what  they  had  not 
seen  they  could  have  no  knowledge,  for  they 
could  not  read.  They  had  no  ideas  but  of 
the  few  things  that  were  within  their  view, 
and  had  hardly  names  for  anything  but 
their  clothes  and  their  food.  As  I bore  a 
superior  character,  I was  often  called  to  ter- 
minate their  quarrels,  which  I decided  as 
equitably  as  I could.  If  it  could  have 
amused  me  to  hear  the  complaints  of  each 
against  the  rest,  I might  have  been  often 
detained  by  long  stories ; but  the  motives 
of  their  animosity  were  so  small  that  I 
could  not  listen  without  interrupting  the 
tale.” 

“ How,”  said  Rasselas,  “ can  the  Arab, 
whom  you  represented  as  a man  of  more 
than  common  accomplishments,  take  any 
pleasure  in  his  seraglio,  when  it  is  filled  only 
with  women  like  these  ? Are  they  exquis- 
itely beautiful  ? ” 

‘‘  They  do  not,”  said  Pekuah,  “ want  that 
unaffecting  and  ignoble  beauty  which  may 
.subsist  without  sprightliness  or  sublimity, 
without  energy  of  thought  or  dignity  of  vir- 
tue. But  to  a man  like  the  Arab  such  beauty 
was  only  a fiower  casually  plucked  and  care- 


182 


A /S  SEIjA.  t'. 


lessly  thrown  away.  Whatever  pleasures 
he  might  find  among  them,  they  were  not 
those  of  friendship  or  society.  When  they 
were  playing  about  him,  he  looked  on  them 
with  inattentive  superiority;  when  tliey 
vied  for  his  regard,  he  sometimes  turned 
away  disgusted.  As  they  had  no  knowl- 
edge, their  talk  could  take  nothing  from 
the  tediousness  of  life ; as  they  had  no 
choice,  their  fondness,  or  appearance  of  fond- 
ness, excited  in  him  neither  pride  nor  grati- 
tude : he  was  not  exalted  in  his  own  esteem 
by  the  smiles  of  a woman  who  saw  no  other 
man,  nor  was  much  obliged  by  that  regard, 
of  which  he  could  never  know  the  sincerity, 
and  which  he  might  often  perceive  to  be  ex- 
erted, not  so  much  to  delight  him  as  to  pain 
a rival.  That  which  he  gave,  and  they  re- 
ceived, as  love,  was  only  a careless  distribu- 
tion of  superfluous  time,  such  love  as  man 
can  bestow  upon  that  which  he  despises^ 
such  as  has  neither  hope  nor  fear,  neither 
joy  nor  sorrow.” 

‘‘You  have  reason,  lady, to  think  yourself 
happy,”  said  Imlac,  “ that  you  have  been 
thus  easily  dismissed.  How  could  a mind, 
hungry  for  knowledge,  be  willing,  in  an 


BASSELAS. 


183 


mteliectual  famine,  to  lose  such  a banquet 
as  Pekuah’s  conversation  ? ” 

‘‘I  am  inclined  to  believe,”  answered 
Pekuah,  “ that  he  was  for  some  time  in  sus- 
pense; for  notwithstanding  his  promise, 
whenever  I proposed  to  dispatch  a messenger 
to  Cairo,  he  found  some  excuse  for  delay. 
While  I was  detained  in  his  house  he  made 
many  excursions  into  the  neighboring  coun- 
tries, and,  perhaps,  he  would  have  refused 
to  discharge  me,  had  his  plunder  been  equal 
to  his  wishes.  He  returned  always  cour- 
teous, related  his  adventures,  delighted  to 
hear  my  observations,  and  endeavored  to 
advance  my  acquaintance  with  the  stars. 
When  I importuned  him  to  send  away  my 
letters,  he  soothed  me  with  professions  of 
honor  and  sincerity : and,  when  I could  be 
BO  longer  decently  denied,  put  his  troop 
again  in  motion,  and  left  me  to  govern  in  his 
absence.  I was  much  afflicted  by  this  studied 
procrastination,  and  was  sometimes  afraid 
that  I should  be  forgotten ; that  you  would 
leave  Cairo,  and  I must  end  my  days  in  an 
island  of  the  Nile. 

“ I grew  at  last  hopeless  and  dejected,  and 
cared  so  little  to  entertain  him  that  he  for 


liASSELAS. 


IS4 

a while  more  frequently  talked  with  xAf 
maids.  That  he  should  fall  in  love  with 
them,  or  with  me,  might  have  been  equally 
fatal,  and  I was  not  much  pleased  with  the 
growing  friendship.  My  anxiety  was  not 
long;  for,  as  I recovered  some  degree  of 
cheerfulness,  he  returned  to  me,  and  I could 
not  forbear  to  despise  my  former  uneasiness* 
He  still  delayed  to  send  for  my  ransom^ 
and  would,  perhaps,  never  have  determined^ 
had  not  your  agent  found  his  way  to  him. 
The  gold,  which  he  would  not  fetch,  he 
could  not  reject  when  it  was  offered.  He 
hastened  to  prepare  for  our  journey  hither,, 
like  a man  delivered  from  the  pain  of  an. 
intestine  conflict.  I took  leave  of  my  com- 
panions in  the  house,  who  dismissed  me  wifcli 
cold  indifference.” 

Nekayah,  having  heard  her  favorite’s  re- 
lation, rose  and  embraced  her ; and  Rasselas 
gave  her  a hundred  ounces  of  gold,  which 
she  presented  to  the  Arab  for  the  fifty  that 
were  promised. 


BASSELAS, 


185 


CHAPTER  XL. 

The  History  of  a Man  of  Learning. 

They  returned  to  Cairo,  and  were  so  well 
pleased  at  finding  themselves  together  that 
none  of  them  went  much  abroad.  The  prince 
began  to  love  learning,  and  one  day  declared 
to  Imlac,  that  he  intended  to  devote  himself 
to  science,  and  pass  the  rest  of  his  days  in 
literary  solitude. 

‘‘  Before  you  make  your  final  choice,’^ 
answered  Imlac,  you  ought  to  examine  its 
hazards,  and  converse  with  some  of  those 
who  are  grown  old  in  the  company  of  them- 
fielves.  I have  just  left  the  observatory  of 
one  of  the  most  learned  astronomers  in  the 
world,  who  has  spent  forty  years  in  un- 
wearied attention  to  the  motions  and  ap- 
pearances of  the  celestial  bodies,  and  has 
drawn  out  his  soul  in  endless  calculations. 
He  admits  a few  friends  once  a month  to 
hear  his  deductions  and  enjoy  ins  discoveries. 


186 


BASSELAS. 


I was  introduced  as  a man  of  knowledge 
worthy  of  his  notice.  Men  of  various  ideas 
and  fluent  conversation  are  commonly  wel- 
come to  those  whose  thoughts  have  been  long 
fixed  upon  a single  point,  and  who  And  the 
images  of  other  things  stealing  away.  I de- 
lighted him  with  my  remarks ; he  smiled  at 
the  narrative  of  my  travels ; and  was  glad 
to  forget  the  constellations^^and  descend  for 
a moment  into  the  lower  wnrld^^ 

Oar  the  next  ^Jay^rvacatlon  I renewed 
my  visit,  and  was  so  fortunate  as  to  please 
him  again.  He  relaxed  from  that  time  the 
severity  of  his  rule,  and  permitted  me  to 
enter  at  my  own  choice.  I found  him  al- 
ways busy,  and  always  glad  to  be  relieved. 
As  each  knew  much  which  the  other  was 
desirous  of  learning,  we  exchanged  our  no- 
tions with  great  delight.  I perceived  that  I 
had  every  day  more  of  his  confidence,  and 
always  found  new  cause  of  admiration  in 
the  profundity  of  his  mind.  His  compre- 
hension is  vast,  his  memory  capacious  and 
retentive,  his  discourse  is  methodical,  and 
his  expression  clear. 

^ “ His  integrity  and  benevolence  are  equal 

yto  his  learningT^Xii^e^estresearche^and 


BAiSSELAS. 


187 


most  favorite  studies  are  willingly  inter- 
rupted for  an  opportunity  of  doing  good  by 
his  counsel  or  his  riches.  To  his  closest 
retreat,  at  his  most  busy  moments,  all  are 
admitted  that  want  his  assistance:  ‘For, 
though  I exclude  idleness  and  pleasure,  I 
will  never,’  says  he,  ‘ bar  my  doors  against 
charity.  Tcmian^  is  permitted  the  contem- 
plation of  the  skies,  buFEhe  practice  of  virtue 
is'cbmmaji'ded:’"’^  ~ 

“ Surely,”  said  the  princess,  “ this  man  is 
happy.” 

“ I visited  him,”  said  Iinlac,  “ with  more 
and  more  frequency,  and  was  every  time 
more  enamored  of  liis  conversation ; he  was 
sublime  without  haughtiness,  courteous 
without  formality,  and  communicative  with- 
out ostentation.  I was  at  first,  great  ]3rin- 
cess,  of  your  opinion,  tHbught  him  the 
happiest_of^mankind,  and  often  congratu- 
lated him  on  theT^essing  that  he  enjoyed. 
He  seemed  to  hear  nothing  with  indifference 
hut  the  praises  of  his  condition,  to  which 
he  always  returned  a general  answer,  and 
diverted  the  conversation  to  some  other 
topic. 

“Amidst  this  willingness  to  be  pleased 


188 


BASSELA8. 


and  labor  to  please,  I had  quickly  reason  td 
imagine  that  some  painful  sentiment  pressed 
upon  his  mind.  He  often  looked  up  ear- 
nestly towards  the  sun,  and  let  his  voice 
fall  in  the  midst  of  his  discourse.  He  would 
sometimes,  when  we  were  alone,  gaze  upon 
me  in  silence  with  the  air  of  a man  who 
longed  to  speak  what  he  was  yet  resolved 
to  suppress.  He  would  often  send  for  me, 
with  vehement  injunctions  of  haste,  though, 
when  I came  to  him,  he  had  nothing  ex- 
traordinary to  say.  And  sometimes,  when 
I was  leaving  him,  he  would  call  me  back, 
pause  a few  moments^  and  then  dismiss 


RASSELA8. 


189 


CHAPTER  XLL 


The  Astronomer  discovers  the  cause  of  his  uneasiness. 


“ At  last  the  time  came  when  the  secret 
burst  his  reserve.  We  were  sitting  together 
last  night  in  the  turret  of  his  house,  watch- 
ing the  emersion  of  a satellite  of  Jupiter.  A 
sudden  tempest  clouded  the  sky,  and  dis- 
appointed our  observation.  We  sat  a while 
silent  in  the  dark,  and  then  he  addressed 
himself  to  me  in  these  words: — ^Imlac,  I 
have  long  considered  thy  friendship  as  the 
greatest  blessing  of  my  life.  In^ 
put3^wled^e.^is^..weak-^and3s,elessr  ai^^ 
Siowl^ge  witEouF  integrity  Is^  dangerous ' 
jaM..dfea^uh  T have  found  in  thee  all  the  ‘ 
qualities  requisite  for  trust,  benevolence,  ex- 
perience, and  fortitude.  I have  long  dis-. 
charged  an  office  which  I must  soon  quit  at 
the  call  of  nature,  and  shall  rejoice,  in  the 
hour  of  imbecility  and  pain,  to  devolve  it 
upon  thee.’ 


190 


BASSELA8. 


‘‘  I thought  myself  honored  by  this  testi- 
mony, and  protested,  that  whatever  would 
conduce  to  his  happiness  would  add  likewise 
to  mine. 

‘ Hear,  Imlac,  what  thou  wilt  not  with- 
out difficulty  credit.  I have  possessed  for 
five  years  the  regulation  of  the  weather  and 
the  distribution  of  the  seasons ; the  sun  has 
listened  to  my  dictates,  and  passed  from 
tropic  to  tropic  by  my  direction ; the  clouds, 
at  my  call,  have  poured  their  waters,  and 
the  Nile  has  overflowed  at  my  command  ; I 
have  restrained  the  rage  of  the  dog-star,  and 
mitigated  the  fervors  of  the  crab.  The 
winds  alone^  of  all  the  elemental  powers, 
Jiave  hitherto  refused  ihy^ authority,  and 
multitudes  hav^  perished ' by  equiiiocf  ial 
tempest,  which  I have  found  myself  unable 
to  prohibit  or  restrain.  I have  administered 
this  great  office  with  exact  justice,  and  made 
to  the  different  nations  of  the  earth  an  im- 
partial dividend  of  rain  and  sunshine.  What 
must  have  been  the  misery  of  half  the  globe 
if  I.  had  limited  the  clouds  to  particular 
regions,  or  confined  the  sun  to  either  aide 
of  the  equator?^” 


BASSELAS. 


191 


CHAPTER  XLHT 

The  Opinion  of  the  Astronomer  is  explained  and 
justified, 

‘‘  I SUPPOSE  he  discovered  in  me,  through 
the  obscurity  of  the  room,  some  tokens  of 
amazement  and  doubt,  for,  after  a short 
pause,  he  proceeded  thus : 

“ ‘ Not  to  be  easily  credited  will  neither 
surprise  nor  offend  me ; for  I am,  probably, 
the  first  of  human  beings  to  whom  this  trust 
has  been  imparted.  Nor  do  I know  whether 
to  deem  the  distinction  a reward  or  punish- 
ment ; since  I have  possessed  it  I have  been 
far  less  happy  than  before,  and  nothing  but 
the  consciousness  of  good  intention  could 
have  enabled  me  to  support  the  weariness  of 
unremitted  vigilance.’ 

“ ‘ How  long,  sir,’  said  I,  ‘ has  this  great 
office  been  in  your  hands  ? ’ 

“ ‘ About  ten  years  ago,’  said  he,  ‘ my 
daily  observations  of  the  changes  of  the  sky 


192 


RASSELAS. 


led  me  to  consider  whether,  if  I had  tne 
power  of  the  seasons,  I could  confer  greater 
plenty  upon  the  inhabitants  of  the  earth. 
This  contemplation  fastened  upon  my  mind, 
and  I sat  days  and  nights  in  imaginary  do- 
minion, pouring  upon  this  country  and  that 
the  showers  of  fertility,  and  seconding  every 
fall  of  rain  with  a due  proportion  of  sun- 
shine. I had  yet  only  the  will  to  do  good, 
and  did  not  imagine  that  I should  ever  have 
the  power. 

‘ One  day,  as  I was  looking  on  the  fields 
f withering  with  heat,  I felt  in  my  mind  a 
sudden  wish  that  I could  send  rain  on  the 
southern  mountains,  and  raise  the  Nile  to  an 
inundation.  In  the  hurry  of  my  imagina- 
tion I commanded  rain  to  fall ; and,  by  com- 
paring the  time  of  my  command  with  that 
of  the  inundation,  I found  that  the  clouds 
had  listened  to  my  lips.’ 

I ‘‘‘Might  not  some  other  cause,’  said  I, 
•produce  this  concurrence?  the  Nile  does 
not  always  rise  on  the  same  day.’ 

“ ‘ Do  not  believe,’  said  he  with  impa- 
tience, ‘ that  such  objections  could  escape 
me:  I reasoned  long  against  my  own  con- 
viction, and  labored  against  truth  with  tha 


HASSELAS. 


193 


utmost  obstinacy.  I sometimes  suspected 
myself  of  madness,  and  should  not  have 
dared  to  impart  this  secret  but  to  a man 
like  you,  capable  of  distinguishing  the  won- 
derful from  the  impossible,  and  the  incredie 
ble  from  the  false.’ 

“ ‘ Why,  sir,’  said  I,  ^ do  you  call  that 
incredible  which  you  know,  or  think  you 
know,  to  be  true  ? ’ 

“ ‘ Because,’  said  he,  ^ I cannot  prove  it 
by  any  external  evidence ; and  I know  too 
well  the  lavv^s  of  demonstration  to  think  that 
my  conviction  ought  to  influence  another, 
who  cannot,  like  me,  be  conscious  of  its 
force.  I therefore  shall  not  attempt  to  gain 
credit  by  disputation.  It  is  sufficient  that 
I feel  this  power,  that  I have  long  possessed, 
and  every  day  exerted  it.  But  the  life  of 
man  is  short,  the  inflrmities  of  age  increase 
upon  me,  and  the  time  will  soon  come  when 
the  regulator  of  the  year  must  mingle  with 
the  dustTThe  care  of  appointing  a suc- 
cessor has  long  disturbed  me;  the  night 
and  the  day  have  been  spent  in  comparisons 
of  all  the  characters  which  have  come  to  my 
knowledge,  and  I have  yet  found  none  so 
worthy  as  thyself.’  ” 

13 


194 


liASS£lLA8. 


CHAPTER  XLIII. 

The  Astronomer  leaves  Imlac  his  directions. 

‘ Hear,  therefore,  what  I shall  impart 
with  attention,  such  as  the  welfare  of  a 
world  requires.  If  the  task  of  a king  he 
considered  as  difficult,  who  has  the  care 
only  of  a few  millions,  to  whom  he  cannot 
do  much  good  or  harm,  what  must  be  the 
anxiety  of  him,  on  whom  depends  the  action 
of  the  elements,  and  the  great  gifts  of  light 
and  heat  ? — Hear  me,  therefore,  with  atten- 
tion. 

‘ I have  diligently  considered  the  posi- 
tion of  the  earth  and  sun,  and  formed  innu- 
merable schemes  in  which  I changed  their 
situation,  i have  sometimes  turned  aside 
the  axis  of  the  earth,  and  sometimes  varied 
the  ecliptic  of  the  sun  : but  I have  found  it 
impossible  to  make  a disposition  by  vdiich 
the  world  may  be  advantaged;  what  one 
region  gains  another  loses  by  an  imaginable 


BASSELAS. 


195 


alteration,  even  without  considering  the 
dfetant  parts  of  the  solar  system  with  which 
we  are  acquainted.  Do  not,  therefore,  ia 
thj  administratiou  - of  :the  y ear,  indulge  thy 
pride  by  innovation ; do  not  please  thyself 
with  thinking  that  thou  canst  make  thyself 
renowned  to  all  future  ages,  by  disordering 
the  seasons.  .^The  memory  of  mischief  is 
no  desirable  fame.  Much  less  will  it  become 
thee  to  let  kindness  or  interest  prevails 
Never  rob  other  countries  of  rain  to  pour  it 
on  thine  own.  For  us  the  Nile  is  sufficient.* 
« I promised,  that  when  I possessed  the 
power,  I would  use  it  with  inflexible  integ- 
rity; and  he  dismissed  me,  pressing  my 
hand.  ‘ My  heart,’  said  he,  ‘ will  be  now  at 
rest,  and  my  benevolence  will  no  more  de- 
stroy my  quiet ; I have  found  a man  of  wis- 
dom and  virtue,  to  whom  I can  cheerfully 
bequeath  the  inheritance  of  the  sun.’  ” 

The  prince  heard  this  narration  with  very 
serious  regard ; but  the  princess  smiled,  and 
Pekuah  convulsed  herself  with  laughter* 
Ladies,”  said  Imlac,  “ to  mock  the  heaviest 
of  human  afflictions  is  neither  charitable 
nor  wise.  Few  can  attain  this  man’s  knowl- 
edge and  few  practice  his  virtues ; but  all 


196 


HASSELAS. 


may  suffer  his  calamity.  Of  the  unoei^n. 
ties  of  our  present  state,  tJiem^t  dreadfiil 
andr~alafming  isThe  unc^tain  continuance 

of  reason.”  

'T^he'pfmcess  was  recollected,  and  the  fa- 
vorite was  abashed.  Rasselas,  more  deeply 
affected,  inquired  of  Imlac,  whether  he 
thought  such  maladies  of  the  mind  frequent, 
and  how  they  were  contracted? 


BASSELAS. 


197 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 

' The  Dangerous  Prevalence  of  Imagination- 

Disordeks  of  intellect,”  answered  Imlac, 
^happen  much  more  often  than  superficial 
observers  will  easily  believe.  Perhaps,  il 
we  speak  witlLrigorous  exactness,  no  human 
mind  is  in  its  ripcht  state.  [TheFeTs  hcTman 
wlmseJmRgination  does  not  som^mes  pi^ 

I ^sdominat^over  his  reason,  who  can  regulate 
his  attention  wholly  by  his  will,  and  whose 
ideas  will  come  and  go  at  his  command- 
No  man  will  be  found  in  whose  mind  airy 
notions  do  not  sometimes  tyrannize,  and 
force  him  to  hope  or  fear  beyond  the  limits 
of  sober  probability.  All  power  of  fancy 
-N^^yer  reason  is  a degree  of  insanity ; but 
wtdie'tEis  power  is  such  as  we  can  control 
and  repress,  it  is  not  visible  to  others,  nor 
considered  as  any  depravation  of  the  mental 
faculties ; It  is  not  pronounced  madness  but 


1C8 


hasselas. 


when  it  becomes  ungovernable,  and  appar- 
ently  influences  speech  or  action. 

To  indulge  the  power  of  fiction,  and  send 
imagination  out  upon  the  wing,  is  often  the/ 
sport  of  those  who  delight  too  much  in 
silent  speculation.  When  we  are  alone  we 
are  not  always  busy ; the  labor  of  excogita- 
tion is  too  violent  to  last  long ; the  ardor  of 
inquiry  will  sometimes  give  way  to  idleness 
cr  satiety.  Ile^who  has  nothing  external 
that  can  divert  him  must  find  pleasure  in 
his  own  though  tSjTmdlhust  conceive  Bi^mself 
wKat'TTe  is™nbt';~Tor“Wtio  with 

Wliat  he  is?  He  then  expatiates  in  bound- 
less futurity,  and  culls  from  all  imaginable 
conditions  that  which  for  the  present  mo- 
ment he  should  most  desire,  amuses  his  de- 
sires with  impossible  enjoyments,  and  con- 
fers upon  his  pride  unattainable  dominion. 
The  mind  dances  from  scene  to  scene,  unites 
all  pleasures  in  all  combinations,  and  riots 
in  delights  which  nature  and  fortune,  with 
all  their  bounty,  cannot  bestow. 

“In  time  some  particular  train  of  ideas 
fixes  the  attention ; all  other  intellectual 
gratifications  are  rejected ; the  mind,  in 
weariness  cr  leisure,  recurs  constantly  to 


BASSELAS. 


199 


tfaj^avorite  .conception,  ^sts  on  tho 
luscious  falsehood  whenever  she Is^  offended 
wIth~tH5' bitterness  of  truth.  By  . degrees 
the  reign  of  fancy  is  confirmed ; she  gro\!^s 
first  imperious,  and  in  time  despotic.  Theii^'^s^ 
fictions  begin  to  operate  as  realities,  false 
opinions  fasten  upon  the  mind,  and_lifey 
^sses  in  dreams  of^pti^e^  or^of  anguist 
^‘^his,  sir,  is  one  of  the  dangers  of  soli^ 
tude,  which,  til e ±LermitJaiis^  confused" not^ 
always  to  prompt^  goodness,  and  the  as- 
tronomer’s misery  Eas '"proved  to  be  no^ 


“ I will  no  more,”  said  the  favorite,  ‘‘im- 
lagine  myself  the  queen  of  Abyssinia.  I have 
often  spent  the  hours,  which  the  princess 
gave  to  my  own  disposal,  in  adjusting  cere- 
monies and  regulating  the  court;  I have 
repressed  the  pride  of  the  powerful,  and 
granted  the  petitions  of  the  poor ; I have 
built  new  palaces  in  more  happy  situations, 
planted  groves  upon  the  tops  of  mountains, 
and  have  exulted  in  the  beneficence  of 
royalty,  till,  when  the  princess  entered,  I 
bad  almost  forgotten  to  bow  down  before 
her.” 

‘‘And  I,”  said  the  princess,  “will  not 


200 


BASSELAS. 


allow  myself  any  more  to  play  the  shep- 
herdess in  my  waking  dreams.  I have  often 
soothed  my  thoughts  with  the  quiet  and 
innocence  of  pastoral  employments,  till  I 
have,  in  my  chamber,  heard  the  winds 
whistle  and  the  sheep  bleat : sometimes 
freed  the  lamb  entangled  in  the  thicket,  and 
sometimes  with  my  crook  encountered  the 
wolf.  I have  a dress  like  that  of  the  village 
maids,  which  I put  on  to  help  my  imagina- 
tion, and  a pipe,  on  which  I play  softly,  and 
spppose  myself  followed  by  my  flocks.” 
r “ I will  confess,”  said  the  prince,  an  in- 
dulgence of  fantastic  delight  more  dangerous 
than  yours.  I have  frequently  endeavored 
to  imagine  the  possibility  of  a perfect  govern- 
ment, by  which  all  wrong  should  be  re- 
strained, all  vice  reformed,  and  all  the  sub- 
\jects  preserved  in  tranquillity  and  innocence. 
This  thought  produced  innumerable  schemes 
of  reformation,  and  dictated  many  useful 
regulations  and  salutary  edicts.  This  has 
been  the  sport,  and  sometimes  the  labor,  of 
my  solitude ; and  start,  when  I think  with 
how  little  anguish  I once  supposed  the  death 
of  my  father  an  ''  my  brothers.” 

“Such,”  says  Imlac,  “are  the  effect  of 


RASSELAS. 


201 


visionary  schemes.  When  jwe  first  form 
them  .TCe-kim®L.them  to  be.  absurd,  but  fa- 
^miliarize  them  by„!dLegrees,  and,  in  time  lose 
^^ht  of  their  folly.” 


202 


EASSELAa. 


CHAPTER  XLV. 

They  Discourse  with  an  Old  Man. 

The  evening  was  now  far  passed,  and 
they  rose  to  return  home.  As  they  walked 
along  the  bank  of  the  Nile,  delighted  with 
the  beams  of  the  moon  quivering  on  the 
water,  they  saw  at  a small  distance  an  old 
man,  whom  the  prince. had  often  heard  in 
the  assembly  of  the  feages.  “ Yonder,”  said 
he,  ‘‘is  one  whose  years  have  calmed  his 
passions,  but  not  clouded  his  reason : let  us 
close  the  disquisitions  of  the  night  by  in- 
quiring what  are  his  sentiments  of  his  own 
state,  that  we  may  know  whether  youth 
alone  is  to  struggle  with  vexation,  and 
whether  any  better  hope  remains  for  the 
latter  part  of  life.” 

Here  the  sage  approached  and  saluted 
them.  They  invited  him  to  join  their  walk, 
and  prattled  a while,  as  acquaintances  that 
had  unexpectedly  met  one  another.  The  old 


BASSELAS. 


203 


man  was  cheerful  and  talkative,  and  the 
way  seemed  short  in  his  company.  He  was 
pleased  to  find  himself  not  disregarded,  ac- 
companied them  to  their  house,  and,  at  the 
prince’s  request,  entered  with  them.  They 
placed  him  in  the  seat  of  honor,  and  set  wine 
ind  conserves  before  him. 

“ Sir,”  said  the  princess,  “ an  evening 
walk  must  give  to  a man  of  learning,  like 
you,  pleasures  which  ignorance  and  youth 
Ilian  hardly  conceive.  You  know  the  quali- 
fies and  the  causes  of  all  that  you  behold, 
Ihe  laws  by  which  the  river  flows,  the  pe- 
niods  m which  the  planets  perform  their 
j*evolutions.  Everything  must  supply  you 
with  contemplation,  and  renew  the  con- 
j'ciousness  of  your  own  dignity.” 

‘‘Lady,”  answered  he,  “let  the  gay  and 
the  vigorous  expect  pleasure  in  their  excur- 
sions ; it  is  enough  that  age  can  obtain  ease. 
To  me  the  world  has  lost  its  novelty : I look 
round  and  see  what  I remember  to  have 
seen  in  happier  days.  I rest  against  a tree, 
and  consider  that  in  the  same  shade  I once 
disputed  upon  the  annual  overflow  of  the 
Nile  with  a friend  who  is  now  silent  in  the 
grave.  I cast  my  eyes  upwards,  fix  them 


204 


BASSELA8. 


on  the  changing  moon,  and  think  with  pail 
on  the  vicissitudes  of  life.  I have  ceased  to 
take  much  delight  in  physical  truth ; for 
what  have  I to  do  with  those  things  which 
I am  soon  to  leave?” 

‘‘You  may  at  least  recreate  yourself,”  said 
Imlac,  “ with  the  recollection  of  an  honorable 
and  useful  life,  and  enjoy  the  praise  which 
all  agree  to  give  you.” 

“ Praise,”  said  the  sage,  with  a sigh,  “ is 
to  an  old  man  an  empty  sound.  I have 
neither  mother  to  be  delighted  with  the 
reputation  of  her  son,  nor  wife  to  partake 
the  honors  of  her  husband.  I have  outlived 
my  friends  and  my  rivals.  N'othing  is  now 
of  much  importance;  for  I cannot  extend 
my  interest  beyond  myself.  Youth  is  de- 
lighted with  applause,  because  it  is  consid- 
ered as  the  earnest  of  some  future  good, 
and  because  the  prospect  of  life  is  far  ex- 
tended : but  to  me,  who  am  now  declining 
to  decrepitude,  there  is  little  to  be  feared 
fronnlhe  malevo]ene<="  ipgg 

to  be  hoped  from  their  affeetmn  nr  esteem. 
^Something  they  may  yet  take  away,  but  they 
can  give  me  nothing.  Riches  would  now 
be  useless,  and  high  employment  would  be 


RASSELAS. 


205 


pain.  My  retrospect  of  life  recalls  to  my 
view  many  opportunities  of  good  neglected, 
much  time  squandered  upon  trifles,  and 
more  lost  in  idleness  and  vacancy.  I leave 
many  great  designs  unattempted,  and  many 
great  attempts  unflnished.  ,My  mind  is 
burdened  with  no  heavy  crime,  and  therefore 

I compose  myself  to  tranquillity : endeavor  to 
abstract  my  thoughts  from  hopes  and  cares, 
which,  though  reason  knows  them  to  be  vain, 
still  try  to  keep  their  old  possession  of  the 
heart ; expect,  with  serene  humility,  that 
hour  which  nature  cannot  long  delay ; and 
hope  to  possess,  in  a better  state,  that  hap- 
piness which  here  I could  not  find,  and  that 
virtue  which  here  I have  not  attained.” 

He  rose  and  went  away,  leaving  his  audi- 
ence not  much  elated  with  the  hope  of  long 
life.  The  prince  consoled  himself  with 
remarking,  that  it  was  not  reasonable  to  be 
disappointed  by  this  account ; for  age  had 
never  been  considered  as  the  season  of 
felicity ; and  if  it  was  possible  to  be  easy  in 
decline  and  weakness,  it  was  likely  that  the 
days  of  vigor  and  alacrity  might  be  happy : 
that  the  noon  of  life  could  be  bright  if  the 
evening  could  be  calm. 


206 


BASSELAS. 


The  princess  suspected  that  age  was  quei 
ulous  and  malignant,  and  delighted  to  repress.; 
the  expectations  of  those  who  had  newly  en 
tered  the  world.  She  had  seen  the  possessors 
of  estates  look  with  envy  on  their  heirs,  and 
known  many  who  enjoyed  pleasure  no  longer 
than  they  could  confine  it  to  themselves. 

Pekuah  conjectured  that  the  man  wasr 
older  than  he  appeared,  and  was  willing  to 
impute  his  complaints  to  delirious  dejection  y 
or  else  supposed  that  he  had  been  unfortu- 
nate, and  was  therefore  discontented ; ‘*^Fox 
nothing,”  said  she,  ‘‘  is  more  common  than  ta 
call  our  own  condition  the  condition  of  lifeJ* 

Imlac,  who  had  no  desire  to  see  them  de^ 
pressed,  smiled  at  the  comforts  whicli  they 
could  so  readily  procure  to  themselves,  and 
remembered,  that  at  the  same  age  he  was 
equally  confident  of  unmingled  prosperity, 
and  equally  fertile  of  consolatory  expedients. 
He  forbore  to  force  upon  them  unwelcome 
knowledge,  which  time  itself  would  too 
soon  impress.  The  princess  and  her  lady 
retired ; the  madness  of  the  astronomer  hung 
upon  their  minds,  and  they  desired  Imlac  to 
enter  upon  his  office,  and  delay  next  morn- 
ing  the  rising  of  the  sun. 


RASSELA8. 


20T 


CHAPTER  XLVL 

The  Princess  and  Pekuah  visit  the  Astronomer. 

The  princess  and  Pekuah,  having  talked 
in  private  of  Imlac’s  astronomer,  thought 
his  character  at  once  so  amiable  and  so 
strange  that  they  could  not  be  satisfied 
without  a nearer  knowledge ; and  Imlac 
was  requested  to  find  the  means  of  bringing 
them  together. 

This  was  somewhat  difficult ; the  philos- 
opher had  never  received  any  visits  from 
women,  though  he  lived  in  a city  that  had 
in  it  many  Europeans,  who  followed  the 
manners  of  their  own  countries,  and  many 
from  other  parts  of  the  world,  that  lived 
there  with  European  liberty.  The  ladies 
would  not  be  refused,  and  several  schemes 
were  proposed  for  the  accomplishment  of  ^ 
their  design.  It  was  proposed  to  introduce 
them  as  strangers  in  distress,  to  whom  the 
sage  was  always  accessible ; but,  after  some 
deliberation,  it  appeared  that  by  this  artifice 


208 


BASSELAS. 


no  acquaintance  could  be  formed,  for  their 
conversation  would  be  short,  and  they  could 
not  decently  importune  him  often.  This,” 
said  Easselas,  is  true;  but  I have  yet  a 
stronger  objection  against  the  misrepresenta- 
tion of  your  state.  I have  always  considered 
it  as  treason  against  the  great  republic  of 

human  nature  to  make  any  man’s  virtues 
t^e  means  of  deceiving  him,  wiietUer  on 

great  or  little  occasions.  All  imposture 
weakens  conllclence  and  diills  benevoleiTce. 

When  the  sage  finds  that  you  are  not  what 
you  seemed,  he  will  feel  the  resentment 
natural  to  a man  who,  conscious  of  great 
abilities,  discovers  that  he  has  been  tricked 
by  understandings  meaner  that  his  own ; 
and,  perhaps,  the  distrust,  which  he  can 
never  afterwards  wholly  lay  aside,  may  stop 
the  voice  of  counsel  and  close  the  hand  of 
charity ; and  where  will  you  find  the  power 
of  restoring  his  benefactions  to  mankind  or 
his  peace  to  himself  ? ” 

To  this  no  reply  was  attempted,  and  Imlac 
began  to  hope  that  their  curiosity  would 
subside ; but,  next  day,  Pekuah  told  him, 
she  had  now  found  an  honest  pretense  for  a 
visit  to  the  astronomer,  for  she  would  solicit 


liASSJSLAS. 


209 


permission  to  continue  under  him  the  studies 
m which  she  had  been  initiated  by  the  Arab, 
and  the  princess  might  go  with  her  either  as 
a fellow-student,  or  because  a woman  could 
not  decently  come  alone.  “ I am  afraid,” 
said  Imlac,  that  he  will  be  soon  weary  ot 
your  company ; men  advanced  far  in  knowl- 
edge do  not  love  to  repeat  the  elements  of 
their  art,  and  I am  not  certain  that  even  of 
the  elements,  as  he  will  deliver  them  con- 
nected with  inferences  and  mingled  with  re- 
flections, you  are  a very  capable  auditress.” 
— “That,”  saidPekuah,  “ must  be  my  care ; 
I ask  of  you  only  to  take  me  thither.  My 
knowledge  is,  perhaps,  more  than  you  im- 
agine it;  and,  by  concurring  always  with 
his  oj)inions,  I shall  make  him  think  it 
greater  than  it  is.” 

The  astronomer,  in  pursuance  of  this  res- 
olution, was  told  that  a foreign  lady,  travel- 
ing in  search  of  knowledge,  had  heard  of 
his  reputation,  and  was  desirous  to  become 
his  scholar.  The  uncommonness  of  the 
proposal  raised  at  once  his  surprise  and 
curiosity : and  when,  after  a short  delibera- 
tion, he  consented  to  admit  her,  he  could  not 
stay  v/ithout  impatience  till  the  next  day. 

11 


210 


RASSELAS. 


The  ladies  dressed  themselves  magnifi* 
cently,  and  were  attended  by  Imlac  to  the 
astronomer,  who  was  pleased  to  see  himself 
approached  with  respect  by  persons  of  so 
splendid  an  appearance.  In  the  exchange 
of  the  first  civilities  he  was  timorous  and 
bashful ; but  when  the  talk  became  regular, 
he  recollected  his  powers,  and  justified  tho 
character  which  Imlac  had  given.  Inquirinj( 
of  Pekuah,  what  could  have  turned  her  in., 
clination  towards  astronomy?  he  received 
from  her  a history  of  her  adventure  at  the. 
pyramid,  and  of  the  time  passed  in  the 
Arab’s  island.  She  told  her  tale  with  ease* 
and  elegance,  and  her  conversation  took 
possession  of  his  heart.  The  discourse  was 
then  turned  to  astronomy ; Pekuah  displayed 
what  she  knew;  he  looked  upon  her  as  a 
prodigy  of  genius,  and  entreated  her  nofc 
to  desist  from  a study  which  she  had  so 
bappily  begun. 

They  came  again  and  again,  and  were 
every  time  more  welcome  than  before.  The 
sage  endeavored  to  amuse  them,  that  they 
might  prolong  their  visits,  for  he  found  his 
thoughts  grow  brighter  in  their  company; 
the  clouds  of  solicitude  vanished  by  degrees, 


RASSELAS, 


211 


as  he  forced  himself  to  entertain  them ; and 
he  grieved  when  he  was  left  at  their  de- 
parture to  his  old  employment  of  regulating 
the  seasons. 

The  princess  and  her  favorite  bad  now 
watched  his  lips  for  several  months,  and 
could  not  catch  a single  word  from  which 
they  could  judge  whether  he  continued,  or 
not,  in  the  opinion  of  his  preternatural  com- 
mission. They  often  contrived  to  bring  him 
to  an  open  declaration : but  he  easily  eluded 
all  their  attacks,  and  on  which  side  soever 
they  pressed  him  escaped  from  them  to 
some  other  topic. 

As  their  familiarity  increased,  they  invited 
him  often  to  the  house  of  Imlac,  where  they 
distinguished  him  by  extraordinary  respect. 
He  began  gradually  to  delight  in  sublunary 
pleasures.  He  came  early,  and^dep^teC 
late ; labored  to  recommend  himself  by  as- 
siduity and  compliance;  excited  their  cu- 
riosity after  new  arts,  that  they  might  still 
want  his  assistance ; and  when  they  made 
any  excursion  of  pleasure  or  inquiry,  en- 
treated to  attend  them. 

By  long  experience  of  his  integrity  and 
wisdom,  the  prince  and  his  sister  were  con- 


212 


BASSELAS. 


vinced  that  he  might  be  trusted  without 
danger ; and,  lest  he  should  draw  any  false 
hopes  from  the  civilities  which  he  received, 
discovered  to  him  their  condition,  with  the 
motives  of  their  journey  ; and  required  his 
opinion  on  the  choice  of  life. 

“ Of  the  various  conditions  which  the 
world  spreads  before  you,  which  yon  shall 
prefer,”  said  the  sage,  I am  not  able  to  in- 
struct you.  I can  only  tell  that  I have  chosen 
wrong.  I have  passed  my  time  in  study 
without  '&speriehce7"inr"the  attain]ffi[^BPfen)f 
scienue^^wEichl^an,  for  the  most  part,  be 
but  remotely  useful  to  mankind.  I have 
purchased  knowledge_at_  the  expense  of  a 


the  commdfrcuinforts  of  ttfe  ; i have  missed' 
the  endearing  elegance  of  female  friendslirp, 

and  the  bappy  commerce  of  domestic  tender- 

neSs;  It  r^ve~obtamed  My  prtirogatives 
"'aboveother  students,  they  have  been  accom* 
panied  with  fear,  disquiet,  and  scrupulosity : 
but  even  of  these  prerogatives,  whatever 
they  were,  I have,  since  my  thoughts  have 
been  diversified  by  more  intercourse  with 
The  world,  begun  to  question  the  reality. 
When  I have  been  for  a few  days  lost  in 
pleasing  dissipation,  I am  always  tempted 


BASSELAS. 


213 


to  think  that  my  inquiries  have  ended  in 
error,  and  that  I have  suffered  much,  and 
suffered  it  in  vain.” 

Imlac  was  delighted  to  find  that  the  sage’s 
understanding  was  breaking  through  its 
mists,  and  resolved  to  detain  him  from  the 
planets  till  he  should  forget  his  task  of 
ruling  them,  and  reason  should  recover  its 
origmal  influence. 

From  this  time  the  astronomer  was  re- 
ceived into  familiar  friendship,  and  partook 
of  all  their  projects  and  pleasures  : his  re- 
spect kept  him  attentive,  and  the  activity  of 
Easselas  did  not  leave  much  time  unengaged. 
Something  was  always  to  be  done ; the  day 
was  spent  in  making  observations,  whi^-Ji 
furnished  talk  for  the  evening,  and  the 
evening  was  closed  with  a scheme  for  the 
morrow. 

The  sage  confessed  to  that  since  he 

had  mincrled^in  the  gay  tumults  of  life,  and 
divided  his  hours  by  a successiOirTTf’-xmiuse- 
mants.  he  found~nie~  conviction  of  his  au- 
thority  overlbhe  skies  Tad^ gradually  from 
his  mind,  and  began  to  triist  less  to  an 
opinion,  which  he  never  could  prove  to  others, 
and  which  he  now  found  subject  to  varia- 


214 


JiASSrLAS. 


tion,  from  causes  in  which  reason  had  no 
part.  “ If  I am  accidentally  left  alone  for  a 
few  hours,”  said  he,  ‘‘my  inveterate  per- 
suasion rushes  upon  my  soul,  and  my 
thoughts  are  chained  down  by  some  irresist- 
ible violence ; but  they  are  soon  disentangled 
by  the  prmce’s  conversation,  and  instanta- 
neously released  at  the  entrance  of  Pekuah. 

T am  like  a man  habitually  afraid  of  specters, 
who  is  set  at  ease  by  a lamp,  and  wonders 
at  the  dread  which  harassed  him  in  the 
dark ; yet,  if  his  lamp  be  extinguished,  feels 
again  the  terrors  which  he  knows  that 

--4;^en  it  is  light  he  shall  feel  no  more.  But 
I am  sometimes  afraid  lest  I indulge  my 
quiet  by  criminal  negligence,  and  voluntarily 
forget  the  great  charge  with  which  I am 
intrusted.  If  I favor  myself  in  a known 
error,  or  am  determined  by  my  own  ease 
in  a doubtful  question  of  this  imx^ortance, 
how  dreadful  is  my  crime ! ” 

“No  disease  of  the  imagination,”  answered 
Imlac,  “ is  so  difficult  of  cure  as  that  which 
is  complicated  with  the  dread  of  guilt : fancy 
and  conscience  then  act  interchangeably 
upon  us,  and  so  often  shift  their  places  that 
the  illusions  of  one  are  not  distinguished 


RASSJSLAS. 


215 


from  the  dictates  of  the  other.  If  fancy 
presents  images  not  moral  or  religious,  tho 
mind  drives  them  away  when  they  give  it 
pain;  but  when  melancholic  notions  take 
the  form  of  duty,  they  lay  hold  on  the  fac- 
ulties without  opposition,  because  we  are 
afraid  to  exclude  or  banish  them.  For  this 
reason  the  superstitious  are  often  melan- 
choly. and  the  melanchobsL-^dmost  always 


iiuperstitiou^."^  — 

But  do  not  let  the  suggestions  of  timid- 
jty  overpower  your  better  reason:  the 
danger  of  neglect  can  be  but  as  the  proba- 
bility of  the  obligation,  which  when  you 
consider  it  with  freedom,  you  find  very  little, 
and  that  little  growing  every  day  less. 
Open  your  heart  to  the  influence  of  the  light 
which  from  time  to  time,  breaks  in  upon 
you : when  scruples  importune  you,  which 
you  in  your  lucid  moments  know  to  be  vain, 
do  not  stand  to  parley,  but  fly  to  business 
or  to  Pekuah,  and  keep  this  thought  always 
prevalent,  that  you  are  only  one  atom  of  the 
mass  of  humanity,  and  have  neither  such 
•nrtue  nor  vice  as  that  you  should  be  singled 
out  for  supernatural  favors  or  auctions.” 


213 


S SELjAl.  is% 


CHAPTER  XLVIL 

The  Prince  enters,  and  brings  a Xew  Topic, 

‘‘  All  this,”  said  the  astronomer,  “ I have 
often  thought,  but  my  reason  has  been  so 
long  subjugated  by  an  uncontrollable  and 
over- whelming  idea  that  it  durst  not  confide 
in  its  own  decisions.  I now  see  how  fatally  I 
betray  my  quiet,  by  suffering  chimeras  to 
prey  upon  me  in  secret;  but  melancholy 
shrinks  from  communication,  and  I never 
found  a man  before  to  whom  I could  impart 
my  troubles,  though  I had  been  certain  of 
relief.  I rejoice  to  find  my  own  sentiments 
confirmed  by  yours,  who  are  not  easily  de- 
ceived, and  can  have  no  motive  or  purpose  to 
deceive.  I hope  that  time  and  variety  will 
dissipate  the  gloom  that  has  so  long  sur- 
rounded me,  and  the  latter  part  of  my  days 
will  be  spent  in  peace.” 

‘‘  Your  learning  and  virtue,  ” said  Imlao 
‘‘  may  justly  give  you  hopes,” 


It  xi  ij^SELA.  S, 


217 


Rasselas  then  entered  with  the  princess 
and  Pekuah,  and  inquired  whether  they  had 
contrived  any  new  diversion  for  the  n^t 
day?  “ Such,”  said  Nekayah,  is  the  sta*" 
of  life,  that  hone  are  happy  but  by  the  an- 
“Ticipation  of  change  : the  change  itself  is 

nothing;  when  we  have  made  It,  then^ 

"wish  is  to  change  again^  The  world  is  not 
yet  exhausted;  let  me  see  sometliing  to-^ 
morrow  which  I never  saw  before.”  ^ 
Variety,”  said  Rasselas,  is  so  necessary 
to  content,  that  even  the  happy  valley  dis- 
gusted me  by  the  recurrence  of  its  luxuries ; 
yet  I could  not  forbear  to  reproach  myself 
with  impatience  when  I saw  the  monks  of 
St.  Anthony  support,  without  complaint,  a 
life,  not  of  uniform  delight,  but  miiform 
hardship.” 

“ Those  men,”  answered  Imlac,  are  less 
wretched  in  their  silent  convent  than  the 
Abyssinian  princes  in  their  prison  of  pleas- 
ure. Whatever  is  done  by  the  monks  is 
incited  by  an  adequate  and  reasonable 
motive.  Their  Tabor  supplies  them  mth 
necessaries  ; it  therefore  cannot  be  omitted, 
and  is  certainly  rewarded.  Their  devotion 
prepares  them  for  another  state,  and  reminds 


218 


BASSrZAS. 


them  of  its  approach  while  it  fit?  them  for 
it.  Their  time  is  regtilarly  distributed : 
one  du^  succeeds  another,  so  that  they  are 

not  left  open  to  the  distraction  of  unguided 

choice^  nor  lost  in  the  shades  of  listless  in- 
activity.  There  is  a certain  task  to  be  per- 
formed at  an  appropriated  hour ; and  their 
toils  are  cheerful  because  they  consider  them 
as  acts  of  piety,  by  which  they  are  always 
advancing  towards  endless  felicity.” 

Do  you  think.”  said  Nekayah,  “ that  the 
pionasti^-  rnip.  p.  -mnrP.Unly  n.nri  iTnppr- 

iect  state  than  any  otherg  May  not  he 
eqrially  hope  for  future  happiness  who  con^ 
verses  "openly  with~^mankind,  who  succors 
the  distressed  by  his  charity,  instructs  The 

ignorant  by  his  learning,  and  contributes 

ty  his  industry  to  the  general  system  of 

life  ; even  though  he  should  omit  soihe'  of 

the  mortifications  which  are  practiced  in  the 
cloister,  and  allow  himself  such  harmless 
delights  as  his  condition  may  place  within  his 
reach?” 

This,”  said  Imlac,  “ is  a question  which 
has  long  divided  the  wise  and  perplexed  the 
good.  I am  afraid  to  decide  on  either  part. 
He  that  lives  well  in  the  world  is  better 


BASSELAS. 


219 


than  he  that  lives  well  in  a monastery. 
iliat.  perhaps,  every  la  nTTf;  nhlp.  f.n 
the  temptations  of  pablic  life ; and  if  he  can- 
not conquer,  he  may  properly  retreat.  Some 
have  little  power  to  do  good,  and  have  like- 
wise little  strength  to  resist  evil.  Many  are 
weary  of  their  conflicts  with  adversity,  and 
are  willing  to  eject  those  passions  which 
Jiave  long  busied  them  in  vain.  And  many 
are  dismissed  by  age  and  diseases  from  the 
iutiore  laborious  duties  of  society.  In  mon- 
sisteries  the  weak  and  timorous  may  be 
happily  sheltered,  the  weary  may  repose, 
^^nd  the  penitent  may  meditate.  Those 
I'etreats  of  prayer  and  contemplation  have 
r.omething  so  congenial  to  the  mind  of  man 
that,  perhaps,  there  is  scarcely  one  that  does 
not  purpose  to  close  his  life  in  pious  abstrac- 
tion with  a few  associates  serious  as  him- 
self.” 

“ Such,”  said  Pekuah,  “ has  often  been  my 
wish,  and  I have  heard  the  princess  declare, 
that  she  should  not  willingly  die  in  a 
crowd.” 

“ The  liberty  of  using  harmless  pleasure,” 
proceeded  Imlac,  will  not  be  disputed ; 
t ut  it  is  still  to  be  examined  what  pleasures 


220 


BASSELAS. 


are  harmless.  -The  evil  of  any  pleasure  that 
Nekayah  can  imagine  is'not  in  the  act  itself> 

Plea^fe,  in  itself 
harmless,  may  become  mischievous  by  en- 
dearing us  to  a state  which  we  know  to  be 
transient  and  probatory,  and  withdrawing 
our  thoughts  from  that  of  which  every  hour 
brings  us  nearer  to  the  beginning,  and  of 
which  no  length  of  time  will  bring  us  to  the 
end.  Mortification  is  not  virtuous  in  itself, 
nor  has  anv  other  use  but  that  it  disengagers 

W from  allurements  of  sense.  In  the  state 

of  future  perfegti<^^h  f ^ which  we  all  aspire, 
there  will  be  pleasure  without  danger,  and 
security  without  restraint.” 

The  princess  was  silent,  and  Rasselas, 
turning  to  the  astronomer,  asked  him 
whether  he  could  not  delay  her  retreat  by 
showing  her  something  which  she  had  not 
seen  before  ? ” 

“ Your  curiosity,”  said  the  sage,  “ has  been 
so  general,  and  your  pursuit  of  knowledge 
so  vigorous,  that  novelties  are  not  now  very 
easily  to  be  found;  but  what  you  can  no 
longer  procure  from  the  living  may  be  given 
by  the  dead.  Among  the  wonders  of  this 
country  are  the  Catacombs,  or  the  ancient 


BASSELAS. 


^21 

repositories  in  which  the  bodies  of  the 
f flTlicsfc^^iVeratTohs' wer  lodged,  aiTJwEere» 
bv  the  virtue  of  the  gums  which  embalmed 

them,  they  yet  remam  without  corruption.’^ 
‘‘  I know  not”  said  Rasselas,  what  pleas« 
pTf^he  sight  of  the  Catacombs  c^an  ahord ; 
but,  since  nothing  else  is  offered,  T am 

Tesolved  to  view  them,  and  shall  place  this 
with  many  other  things  which  I have  done 
because  I would  do  something.” 

They  hired  a guard  of  horsemen,  and  the 
next  day  visited  the  Catacombs.  When 
they  were  about  to  descend  into  the 
sepulchral  caves-,  ‘‘  Pekuah,”  said  the  prm- 
cess,  we  are  now  again  invading  the  habita- 
tions of  the  dead ; I know  that  you  will  stay 
behind ; let  me  find  you  safe  when  I return.” 
— “No;  I will  not  be  left,”  answered 
Pekuah,  “ I will  go  down  between  you  and 
the  prince.” 

“ They  then  all  descended,  and  roved 
with  wonder  through  the  labyrinth  of  sub- 
terraneous passages,  where  the  bodies  were 
laid  iu  rows  ou  eitker  siae. 


222 


XiASSELAS. 


CHAPTER  XLVIII. 


Imlac  discourses  on  the  Nature  of  the  Soul. 

‘^WuAT  reason,”  said  the  prince,  can  be 
giv^Twhy  tlie  Egyptians  should  thus“ex- 
pen^vely  preserve  those  carcasses  which 
si^e  Tintions  cnn^ime  with,  fire,  othei^lay 
ta^inglft  with  the  earth^and  all  agree  to 
rernove  frnm,Jdieui  sight-ns  sQqn_a^  decent 
^ites  can  be  performed  ? ” 

The  original  ancient  custom,”  said  Imlac, 
‘‘is  commonly  unknown ; f or  the  practice 
often  continues  when  the  cWse^as  heas^; 
and  cmceming  superstitious  ceremonies  it  is 
vain  to  conjecture  ; for  what  reason  did  not 
dictate,  reason  cannot  explain.  I^hayelong 
believed  that  the  practice  of  embalming  arose 
only  from  tenderness  to  the  remains  of  rda> 
tions  or  friends,  and  to  this  opinion  I am 
^ore  Inclined  because  it  seems  impossible 
that  this  care  should  have  been  general ; had 
all  the  dead  been  embalmed,  their  reposi- 


BASSELAS. 


223 


tories  must  in  time  have  been  more  spacious 
the  dwellings  of  the  living.  Suppose  only 
than  the  rich  or  honorable  were  secured 
froha  corruption,  and  the  rest  left  to  the 
course  of  nature^ 

^ ^‘jBut  it  is  commonly  supposed  that  the 
Egyptians  believed  the  soul  to  live^asTonfe  as 
jhe  body  continued  undi^olvedTanS  thSre- 
fore  tried  this  method  of  eluding  death.^^ 

“ Could  the  wise  Egyptians^’  said  Neka- 
yah,  ‘‘  think  so  grossly  of  the  soul  ? If  the 
RQui  could  once  survive  its  separation^  what 
could  it  afterwards  receive  pr  suffer  from 
the  body  ? ” 

THeTEgyptians  would  doubtless  think 
erroneously,”  said  the  astronomer,  “ in  the 
darkness  of  heathenism,  and  the  first  dawn 
of  philosophy.  The  nature  of  the  soul  is 
still  disputed  amidst  all  our  opportunities 
of  clearer  knowledge : some  yet  say  that  it 
may  be  material,  who  nevertheless  believe 
it  to  be  immortal.” 

Some,”  answered  Imlac,  “ have  indeed 
said  that  the  soul  is  material,  but  I can 
scarcely  believe  that  any  man  has  thought 
it,  who  knew  how  to  think;  for  all  the 
conclusions  of  reason  enforce  the  imma- 


224 


BAS8ELA8. 


teriality  of  mind,  and  all  the  notict;®  of 
sense  and  investigations  of  science  concur 
to  prove  the  unconsciousness  of  matter. 

‘‘  It  was  never  supposed  that  cogitation 
is  inherent  in  matter,  or  that  every  particle 
is  a thinking  being.  Yet,  if  any  part  of  mat-> 
ter  be  devoid  of  thought,  what  part  can  we 

suppose  to  think  ? Matter  can  differ  from 

matter  only  in  form,  density,  bulk,  motion, 
and  direction  of  motion : to  which  of  these, 
however  varied  or  combined,  can  conscious- 
ness be  annexed  ? To  be  round  or  square,  to 
be  solid  or  fluid,  to  be  great  or  little,  to  be 
moved  slowly  or  swiftly  one  way  or  another, 
are  modes  of  material  existence,  all  equally 
alien  from  the  nature  of  cogitation.  If  mat- 
ter be  once  Avithout  thought,  it  can  only  be 
made  to  think  by  some  new  modification,  but 
all  the  modifications  which  it  can  admit  are 
equally  unconnected  with  cogitative  powers.” 

“ But  the  materialists,”  said  the  astron- 
omer, urge  that  matter  may  have  qualities 
with  which  we  are  unacquainted.” 

‘‘  He  who  will  determine,”  returned  Imlac, 
“ against  that  which  he  knows,  because  there 
may  be  something  which  he  knows  not ; he 
that  can  set  hypothetical  possibility  against 


BASSELS, 


acknowledged  certainty,  is  not  to  be  admit 
ted  among  reasonable  beings.  All  that  we 
know  of  matter  is,  that  matter  isTnert,  sens<3- 
less,  and  lifeless  ; and  if  this  convictioiTcan^ 
not  be  opposed  but  by  referring  us  to  some- 
thing that  we  know  not,  we  have  all  the 
evidence  that  human  intellect  can  admit.  If 
which  is  known  may  be  overruled  by 
that  which  is  unknown,  no  being,  not  om- 
niscient,  can  arrive  at  certainty.  ” 

“ Yet  let  us  not,”  said  the  astronomer,  “ too 
arrogantly  limit  the  Creator’s  power.” 

“ It  is  no  limitation  of  omnipotence,”  re- 
plied the  poet,  “ to  suppose  that  one  thing 
is  not  consistent  with  another,  that  "the 
same  proposition  cannot  be  at  once  True  and 
falseTthatThe  same  number  cannot  be  ^en 

and  odd,  that  cogitation  cannot  be  conferred 
gruJhat  which  is  created  incapabl^of  cogi- 
tation.” 

“ I know  not,”  said  Nekayah,  “ any  great 
use  of  this  question.  Does  that  immateri- 
ality, which,  in  my  opinion,  you  have  suffi- 
ciently proved,  necessarily  include  eternal 
duration?” 

“ Of  immateriality,”  said  Imlac,  “ our 
ideas  are  negative,  and  therefore  obscure. 


226 


MASSELASL 


Immateriality  seems  to  imply  a natural 

power  of  perpetual  duration  as  a conse- 
quence^ all  causes  of 

is  destroyed  by  the 
solution^ its  contexture,  and  separation  of 
its  part^;  nor  can^we  conceive  how  that 

which  has  no  parts,  and  therefore  admits  no 
solution,  can  be  naturally  corrupted  or  im- 

“I  know  not,”  said  Rasselas,  ‘‘how  to 
conceive  anything  without  extension ; what 
is  extended  must  have  parts,  and  you  allow 
that  whatever  has  parts  may  he  destroyed.” 

“ Consider  your  owm  conceptions,”  replied 
Imlac,  “ and  the  difficulty  will  be  less.  You 
will  find  substance  without  extension.  An 
ideal  form  is  no  less  real  than  material  bulk : 
yet  an  ideal  form  has  no  extension.  It  is  no 
less  certain,  when  you  think  on  a pyramid, 
that  your  mind  possesses  the  idea  of  a pyra- 
mid than  that  the  pyramid  itself  is  standing. 
What  space  does  the  idea  of  a pyramid  oc- 
cupy more  than  the  idea  of  a grain  of  corn  ? 
or  how  can  either  idea  suffer  laceration  ?^s 
is  the  effect,  such  is  the  cause : as  thought^ 
Rnpb^i«  f,hp.  pnwp.r  that  jMiinks  : a power  im- 
passive and  indiscerptible?’ 


MASSELAS. 


« But  the  Being,”  said  Nekayah,  ‘‘  whom 
I fear  to  name,  the  Being  which  made  the 
soul,  can  destroy  it  ” ^ 

“ He  surely  can  destroy  it,”  answered 
Iml^,  “ since,  however  ^nperishable,  it  ^ 
receives  from  a superior  nature  its  power 
of  duration.  That  it  will  not  peri  : i by 
any  inherent  cause  of  decay,  or  principle  of 
corruption,  may  be  shown  by  philosophy : 
but  philosophy  can  tell  no  morCi  That  it 
will  not  be  annihilated  by  him  that  made 
it,  we  must  humbly  learn  from  higher 
authority.”  The  whole  assembly  stood  a 
while  silent  and  collected.  “ Let  us  return,” 
said  Rasselas,  “ from  this  scene  of  mortality. 
How  gloomy  would  be  these  mansions  of  the 
dead  to  him  who  did  not  know  that  he  should 
never  die,  that  what  now  acts  shall  continue 
its  agency,  and  what  now  thinks  shall  think 
on  forever.  Those  that  lie  here  stretched 
before  us,  the^  wise  and  the  powerful  of 
aiicient  times,  warn  us  to  remember  the 
slWtoess^ot  our  present  state  : th^  were, 

perhaps,  snatched  away  while  they  were 
busy  like  us  in  the  cTToice  of  life.”  “ 

rnej”  J‘the_chm^^ 

of  life  is  become  less  important;  I hopb 


228 


BASSELAS. 


tn  ^.hink  only  nn  f.Vift  ^hnini^ _nf 

^ eternity 

The^TtBen  hastened  out  of  the  caverns 
and  under  the  protection  of  their  guard 
returned  to  Cairo. 


BAS3ELA8. 


229 


CHAPTER  XLIX 

The  Conclusion,  in  which  nothing  is  Concluded. 

It  was  now  the  time  of  the  inundation  of 
the  Nile  : a few  days  after  their  visit  to  the 
Catacombs  the  river  began  to  rise* 

They  were  confined  to  their  house.  The 
whole  region  being  under  water  gave  them 
no  invitation  to  any  excursions,  and  being 
well  supplied  with  materials  for  talk,  they 
diverted  themselves  with  comparisons  of  the 
different  forms  of  life  which  they  had  ob- 
served, and  with  various  schemes  of  happi- 
ness which  each  of  them  had  formed. 

Pekuah  was  never  so  much  charmed 
with  any  place  as  the  convent  of  St.  An- 
thony, where  the  Arab  restored  her  to  the 
princess,  and  wished  only  to  fill  it  with 
pious  maidens,  and  to  be  made  prioress  of 
the  order  ; she  was  weary  of  expectation 
and  disgust,  and  would  gladly  be  fixed  in 
some  unvariable  state. 

The  princess  thought,  that  of  all  sub- 


RASSSLASL 


iit)0 

lunary  thinga  knowledge  was  the  best  * she 
deshed  first  to  leani  all  sciences,  and^hm 
Imposed  to  found  a college  of  learned  wo- 

men, in  which  she  would  preside,  that,  by 
^Qnversing"with  the~^iMrand^^  the 

you^,  she  might  divide  her  time_bet^^n 
TEe^acquisi^n  and  communication  of  wis- 
dom, and  raise  up  for  the  next  age,  models 
of  prudence  and  patterns  of  piety. 

The  prince  desired  a little  kingdom,  ip 
ndminLqten, jmstice  in  his, 
own  person,  and  see  all  the  parts  of  gov- 
ernment with  Ills  own  eyes  ; but  he  could 
never  lix  the  limits  of  his  dominion,  and 
was  always  adding  to  the  number  of  his 
subjects. 

Imlao  and  the  astronomer  were  com 
tented  to  be  driven  along  the  stream  of  life, 
without  directing  their  course  to  any  par- 
ticular port. 

Of  these  wishes  that  they  had  formed 
they  well  knew  that  none  could  be  obtained. 
They  deliberated  a while  what  was  to  be 
done,  and  resolved,  when  the  inundation 
^n)uld  cease,  to  return  to  Abyssinia* 


THE  mm. 


